ã€ŠReturn of the Lion Kingã€‹


 Prologue: Those Happy Days

    ¡°Come in, Ferri¡¯s about done getting dressed.¡±

    The thoroughly surprised speaker was a slender boy flicking his flaxen cat ears¡ªFelix Argyle.

    Though, he tended not to use that name, at least among friends. For the past seven years, he had taken to using the name ¡®Ferris¡¯, and his position in the Karsten household as Crusch¡¯s attendant was something he was proud of.

    The door opened, and a man old enough to be his father entered, a hand subtly pressed against his midsection.

    ¡°Felix, it¡¯s good to see that you''re in high spirits again,¡± Meckart¡ªthe duke of the Karsten lands and Crusch¡¯s father¡ªgreeted with a soft smile. The physical resemblance to Ferris¡¯s liege was weak but he shared her amber eyes. Still, for those that knew the two, it was easy to see the similarities in their character, such as how serious the two of them were, or their determination to see justice upheld.

    Ferris noted that he seemed more tired than usual, and although Meckart stood straight, his well-trained eyes picked up the way Meckart stood to avoid aggravating his stomach.

    Ferris allowed a sigh, ¡°Ferri is always telling you to take better care of his health and manage his stress more responsibly, instead of simply ignoring it and letting it build up. Even Ferri will struggle to keep you in good health.¡±

    Moving closer to Meckart, Ferris laid his hands on the man¡¯s stomach and focused on healing the man, and if he got a little closer than necessary to watch Meckart squirm, that was on him for being so easy to tease.

    He double-checked his work to make sure that he¡¯d healed away every trace of the affliction, though, considering Meckart¡¯s tendency to ignore his body¡¯s needs, it wouldn¡¯t remain so for long. With a slight sigh, he allowed himself to take a step back, and then his concern was banished by amusement as he watched Meckart relax.

    Although that amusement was sadly cut short as he saw Meckart¡¯s face take on a far sterner expression than the one he usually wore. Ferris couldn¡¯t help but note that it didn¡¯t fit his face at all, and even Ferris couldn¡¯t tell if he was trying to distract himself from what was coming, as he opened his mouth.

    ¡°The actions of our former groundskeeper were unacceptable yesterday, and I¡¯ve since sent him off to one of our other Mansions,¡± he said gravely. ¡°I¡¯ve given instructions that he be kept away from any positions of power for several years. I suspect that you feel that might have been too harsh an action for his words yesterday, but he was acting as a representative for the Karsten family during his work in the manor, and to allow such words towards my daughter¡¯s attendant would only serve to weaken our position further.¡±

    Ferris gave Meckart a dry look and tapped on his lips, knowing all too well how Meckart dealt with silences, and not in the mood to hear the official reasoning that Meckart would give to anyone asking.

    As if in response, Meckart took a deep breath and shifted uncomfortably before admitting the true reason as well.

    ¡°More than that, Crusch and I hate to hear such derogatory things about you, and I shudder to think what His Highness would think of me if I were to allow such statements to pass to one he regards as a close friend.¡±

    Ferris allowed a deep sigh, truly he was blessed to have been welcomed into the Karsten Mansion as an attendant to Lady Crusch, but he was also aware of the amount of reshuffling that had been done over the years to help ensure that the people serving were welcoming and kind to him. Such actions left him uncomfortable, as it only served to deepen the debt he owed to the family, but he knew that admitting it directly would get him nothing but assurances that it wasn¡¯t a problem and the right thing to do.

    But the man¡¯s actions honestly hadn¡¯t been that bad.

    Sure, he had been a little rude, but he hadn¡¯t done anything but speak some harsh words, and Ferris knew he had been good at his actual job. Compared to the years Ferris had spent in his own family¡¯s ¡®tender¡¯ arms, it was nothing. In fact, Ferris had almost forgotten about the incident until Meckart¡¯s unscheduled visit.

    ¡°While Ferri is touched by Lord Meowckart¡¯s gallant concerns, Ferri still thinks you went too far,¡± he began, but Meckart raised a hand to interrupt him.

    ¡°Felix, such things cannot be tolerated, for if they are, they will simply become worse in time, rather than better.¡±

    Ferris had to admit that was something he admired about the man. While normally it was easy to fluster the man, the moment he thought something was important he easily ignored Ferris¡¯s tricks.

    Still, he didn¡¯t want to continue such a conversation, even if it was for his own benefit, so he searched his own mind for something he could use to distract the man. A trick he hadn¡¯t used in a while, a new one, perhaps a detail about what Crusch had been getting up to, or¡­ a sound?

    Ferris twitched his feline ears, his demi-human heritage providing him with senses far greater than any human¡¯s. He could hear the soft rumble of wheels on gravel, the sound that heralded the arrival of a dragon carriage to the Karsten lands.

    Meckart¡¯s eyes flicked up to Ferris¡¯s ears, noticing the faint quiver, then he glanced at the window.

    ¡°Do you hear something, perhaps, Felix?¡±

    ¡°We have a visitor,¡± Ferris answered, walking over to the window and drawing the curtains, allowing them to spot an ornate carriage approaching the manor gates, which swiftly opened to allow it in.

    The carriage had barely rolled to a stop when the door burst open, and a striking youth leapt down the stairs. The coachman hesitated, eyes wide with worry, but the boy dismissed him with a wink and started bounding towards the manor, his fur coat billowing behind him. His scarlet eyes sparkled in the daylight as he raised his face to look up to the manor, and by extension, the two of them.

    This was Fourier Lugunica, the fourth son of the current King of Lugunica, who had been visiting the Karsten estate fairly frequently over the years.

    Despite that, Ferris could sense Meckart stiffen, becoming ramrod straight at the surprise arrival of His Highness. No matter how many times this occurrence occurred, he never could relax around someone he respected so much.

    ¡°Crusch! Ferris! Are you here? I long to see your faces!¡±

    Ferris didn¡¯t even need his enhanced senses to hear the prince. He was quite capable of announcing his presence when he came to visit. Ferris was a bit afraid he would manage to shout himself hoarse one day, and he resolved to check on the prince¡¯s throat during the healing session later.

    There wasn¡¯t a doubt in his mind that there would be such a session, but he¡¯d never admit that out loud. At least, not within Crusch¡¯s earshot. He didn¡¯t want her to punish him for disrespecting royalty.

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    With but a glance behind him, he saw Meckart gesturing for him to attend to the prince, so Ferris gladly left, making a mental note to perhaps tease Fourier a little less than usual, as his timing had been amazing.

    He hurried down the halls, taking the steps two at a time as he bound to the entrance hall.

    His liege, Lady Crusch, was already there, walking down the steps towards Fourier waiting in the courtyard. She turned her head as Ferris raced up to her side. He took the opportunity to cycle his mana through himself, to heal any minor damage he may have caused in his rush.

    Crusch was a young woman with long green hair tied with a white ribbon, sharply dressed in men¡¯s clothes. Despite her unconventional attire, none could deny she had begun to bloom into a great beauty, her fine features and almond eyes marking her as exceptional, even among the nobility.

    ¡°Ferris,¡± she greeted, a slight smile on her face. ¡°It is good to see that you''re in high spirits today, after what happened yesterday. Still, we¡¯ve talked about you pushing yourself too hard and healing yourself to compensate.¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± Ferris exclaimed, trying to push past the event before Fourier caught wind of it. He had just escaped from that difficult conversation, he didn¡¯t want it brought up again already.

    ¡°Something so minor wouldn¡¯t be a problem for Ferri! Besides, seeing Prince Fourier again today is just the sort of thing that would cheer me up.¡±

    Fourier, Crusch, and Ferris all shared a strong friendship, despite their differences in status, and that meant quite a bit to Ferris. Though currently, he was just grateful to Fourier for saving him from that awkwardness.

    He knew that if he admitted the truth, Crusch would insist on continuing the discussion. Ferris needed a way to distract her, and by implying that Fourier was helping improve his mood, Crusch would probably allow him to spend more time with him, and perhaps even be more lenient towards some of his pranks towards the prince.

    It was only long experience that allowed Ferris to thread the needle between truth and deceit with his master. She held an ability, her Divine Protection of Wind Indication, which, among other things, allowed her to sense when lies were spoken in her presence.

    Fourier was waiting patiently in the courtyard, waiting for them to reach him. Thankfully, he looked to be in one of his good moods, rather than arriving in a fit as he sometimes had in the past.

    ¡°There you are! It¡¯s been so long since we¡¯ve last laid eyes on each other, I¡¯ve begun to feel lonely!¡±

    Crusch tilted her head quizzically, no doubt surprised that she could not sense a lie in the prince¡¯s words. ¡°Your Highness? Did you not visit just last week? How could you feel lonely after such a short time apart?¡±

    Fourier laughed shamelessly. ¡°Is that so? It feels like it¡¯s been an eternity! Perhaps I should visit more often!¡±

    Crusch continued to look confused, but she didn¡¯t dwell on it further. ¡°Your Highness, this is an unusual time for you to visit. Has something happened?¡±

    Fourier nodded, his eyes lighting up mischievously. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not that something¡¯s happened¡­ but no, perhaps you could say that. I¡¯ve been practising my swordsmanship, and I have mastered a new style! It¡¯s something from the east of the kingdom, and I thought, ¡®Surely, this will give me the upper hand!¡¯ So, would you do me the honour of allowing me to test my skills?¡±

    Ferris sighed slightly at the predictable remark. Fourier often had a silly reason for his visits, and his boasts rarely matched reality.

    Still, he went to grab the two practice swords for the two of them with a smile on his face. If nothing else, it would be entertaining to watch.

    Handing the swords to the two combatants, Ferris settled down to watch the show.

    True to his word, Fourier¡¯s skills had visibly improved. Even Ferris¡ªa novice at the blade¡ªcould see that he held his blade more easily and moved a touch faster. If he was up against a normal soldier, or perhaps even a knight, it wouldn¡¯t be unusual for Fourier to win despite his young age. However, compared to Crusch, such swordsmanship simply wasn¡¯t enough, and in minutes Fourier¡¯s blade had hit the ground, his body following close behind.

    Somewhat unusually, Fourier looked like he wanted to continue the fight, despite being knocked down, but soon gave up after a few attempts at moving resulted in him almost falling back over after standing.

    Approaching Fourier, Ferris was amused to note that he could still see the slight dampness in the prince¡¯s eyes, but supposed it was an improvement to him actually crying, as he had in the past after some of his more crushing defeats. More importantly, despite the tears, Fourier had a bright smile on his face as if he was at least somewhat satisfied by the progress he had made.

    ¡°Ferris, my friend, make haste! If we are to have another round in the near future, I will need to be healed, and I entrust my body to your skilled touch.¡±

    Ferris almost opened his mouth to give that response the comment it deserved, but then reconsidered. Even if it had been inadvertently, Fourier had helped him out this morning, so he could let it be for now.

    Plus, Crusch was looking right at them. She¡¯d definitely punish him if he started playing tricks already.

    Instead, as Ferris started to heal Fourier, he decided to ask about something Fourier would likely love to talk about.

    ¡°Ferri noticed that you did seem to do better today. Are you going to continue learning this new style, or go back to your old one?¡±

    ¡°There is no reason to choose, Ferris! With talent such as mine, I will simply take everything useful from this style, and incorporate it into my own.¡±

    What a typical answer, Ferris thought, his lips curling into a slight smile. Still, he supposed since Fourier intended to go back to his style afterwards, he had answered the question, although he wondered what such an altered style would even look like.

    ¡°I noticed you were using feints far more frequently than you usually do,¡± Crusch commented as she approached them. Unlike Fourier, she did not appear winded in the slightest. Not a single drop of sweat marred her brow.

    ¡°But you only used the same three moves with them. That style¡­ I do not believe it to be sufficient for you, Your Highness. If this is considered mastery, it will not be of use to the development of your skills.¡±

    Fourier smiled ruefully and rubbed the back of his head. ¡°Ah, did I say ¡®mastered¡¯? What I meant to say was that I had¡­ learned it. Yes, I¡¯ve barely begun to study the intricacies involved in the style.¡±

    Ferris recognised that tone.

    ¡°By learned, you mean¡­?¡± he asked, levelling an accusing look at the boy in his lap.

    ¡°I started practising it three days ago,¡± Fourier said, meeting Ferris¡¯s eyes with a shameless smile. ¡°Truly my talent shows, to be able to make such fine use of it in a spar after such a short length of time.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡± Crush asked, narrowing her eyes and raising a hand to her chin. ¡°I believe that when we sparred last, I commented on the lack of feints in your swordplay. I assume you took it upon yourself to correct that?¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± Fourier said, tensing himself as if to get up, forcing Ferris to hold him down. After a quick look of apology, he continued, ¡°Even one such as I can make mistakes, as rare as they are. I recognized that fixing that flaw would allow me to take one more step to the day I defeat you.¡±

    He paused, then ended in a much softer tone, ¡°Although, I had hoped that would be today.¡±

    Ferris brushed the boy¡¯s hair consolingly, considering the thought of Fourier beating Crusch.

    He had to hide his smile. Fourier was skilled, but he couldn¡¯t imagine him ever reaching Crusch¡¯s level. Though, he supposed that such relentless optimism was one of Fourier''s better qualities.

    Crusch nodded. ¡°I see. I had not realised that Your Highness valued my opinion of your swordsmanship so highly¡ª eh? Ferris, why is he convulsing? Has something happened?¡±

    ¡°Nyot to worry, Lady Crusch, he¡¯s just taken some emotional damage,¡± Ferris said, stroking the trembling prince¡¯s head. ¡°He was just speared through the heart by some oblivious words.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I see. Well, if there¡¯s no issue¡­¡± Crusch gathered herself again, and then looked down at Fourier with intensity. ¡°Your Highness, I believe you have many other areas in which you still have room to grow. You have done well to include additional moves into your repertoire, however, being limited to a single follow-up move for each feint makes you predictable. Not only that, you do not have experience with guarding yourself from feints yourself. If I might suggest¡­¡±

    Ferris loved the sound of his lady¡¯s voice, so he hung onto every word, but very soon, the terms she was using became unfamiliar to him, and he could do little more than let the sounds wash over him, as he comforted the prince on his lap.

    Fourier had a shell-shocked expression on his face, as he began to glimpse the gulf that existed between his abilities and Crusch¡¯s. Ferris had to suppress his laughter at that sight, he didn¡¯t want Crusch to punish him for hurting the prince¡¯s feelings again.

    It was a pleasant day. Truly, Ferris wished that it, and these happy days he spent with his two closest friends, would never end.

 Cursed Dreams

    ¡°Ferris? Are you there?¡±

    The voice, once so strong and firm, was now weak and raspy. It didn¡¯t even echo in the empty room. The man lying on the bed had once been quite handsome, but sickness had stolen his looks away. Now his vibrant golden hair had faded, and his striking scarlet eyes struggled to stay open. His face was gaunt, and Ferris knew that under the covers, he¡¯d be able to see bare ribs under the slight covering of his skin.

    Fourier, the fourth prince of Lugunica, was wasting away before Ferris¡¯s very eyes.

    ¡°Ferri is here, Your Highness,¡± Ferris answered, forcing his voice into a parody of his usual sing-song tone. Rising he got up off the chair he had been resting on, his flat expression revealing his true feelings, even as he began to do what he could about Fourier¡¯s pain.

    Ferris was the most talented healer in all of the kingdom, if not the world, and yet for all of his talent, the most he could do was watch and take away the pain one of his closest friends was going through.

    ¡°What about my father, Ferris? Is he doing any better?¡±

    Stepping back, Ferris allowed his anger to fight off his exhaustion leaving him glowering at his bedridden friend.

    Leave it to Fourier to be worried about another¡¯s health at a time like this, Ferris thought, anger temporarily pushing away his despair.

    Fourier¡¯s father was the reigning king of Lugunica, and for a time, Ferris had indeed been assigned to him, to better insure his health.

    Thankfully, when it had become clear that Ferris was unable to heal the king, he had been kind enough to grant him leave so that he could put all of his attention on Fourier. For the past few days, he had practically camped out in this room, only taking food that others had brought to him. He¡¯d tried every method he could think of to strike the illness down.

    Yet in the end, every single method had ended in failure, and he¡¯d been reduced to nothing but a pain reliever. A part of him had even given up on Fourier, as shameful as it was to admit. It was just so far beyond him that he almost felt as though he should just accept the inevitable.

    And the more the illness progressed, the harder it had gotten to keep it at bay. In the initial stages, he had believed that he and the other royal healers would figure out a way to combat and defeat the illness.

    But after that hope had run out, he had been left with nothing but his resolve¡­ and what little inheritance he had received from his father.

    There existed a spell from a witch of the past that had been used to resurrect the dead.

    The Sacrament of the Immortal King.

    His father, while not able to perfectly mimic the spell, had made significant progress, and Ferris had pinned his hopes on finishing that work and saving the Prince, no matter the cost.

    Unfortunately, he had told Fourier of his plan in a moment of weakness, and his prince had declined the offer and told him to instead believe that he could fight off the illness¡ªand if that wasn¡¯t enough¡ªto let him rest in peace. A part of Ferris honestly wondered if he was strong enough to respect Fourier¡¯s choice when he had the power to trample on them and make him live.

    As if sensing Ferris¡¯s steadily darkening thoughts, Fourier gave him a smile. His spirit refused to diminish, even trapped as he was.

    ¡°Ferris, have you been eating enough?¡±

    Ferris met the prince¡¯s hazy gaze, barely trembling at all even as wet yellow met glazed over crimson. ¡°Ferri¡¯s been eating plenty, and actually can keep down the food he eats!¡± he said, trying to fill his words with a joviality he did not feel. ¡°You''re going to make the maids cry at how you¡¯ve been constantly throwing out the food they work so hard on!¡±

    Fourier chuckled. ¡°But Ferris, my friend, if I can¡¯t keep down the food, then you simply need to eat extra in my place.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d fatten up Ferri?¡± Ferris said gasping, ¡°Prince Fourier knows nothing of refinement. To think someone as unrefined as you defeated Lady Crusch! Truly, you make it so hard to believe at times.¡±

    He shook his head, remembering that fateful day where his prince had finally won a bout with Crusch. The battle had its ups and downs, but in the end, Fourier had been declared the victor.

    The duel had been different from their usual bouts, in part due to Crusch agreeing to wear a dress to her birthday party, should Fourier prove victorious.

    Her birthday party that year had been a little troublesome due to the appearance of the Great Rabbit in the Karsten lands, but in the end they had managed to make it work out.

    Ferris felt the ghost of a smile on his face. Back then, he¡¯d been so hopeful, the future had felt so bright.

    "Come now,¡± Fourier said, a smile lighting up his own face. ¡°I spent years declaring that I would inevitably do so. To doubt your liege and close friend in such a way is beyond cruelty."

    Ferris scoffed. "I recall a time when you tried learning a completely new style, just because Lady Crusch noticed your lack of feints, and needed to be healed by poor Ferri. It was only¡­ two years ago, now? At least that loss didn''t result in any tears."

    Fourier turned his head away, adopting an imperious expression.

    ¡°I do not recall any tears. And any tears that were shed were valiant sacrifices that had to be made in order to reach such a peerless mastery of the noble sword,¡± he said, somehow managing to turn up his nose despite laying flat on his back. ¡°And of course, I will demonstrate them for you once more, after I inevitably best this illness too.¡±

    As they bantered, Ferris could feel his mood brightening against his will. Fourier had always had a gift that could make people smile after all. So they passed the time in comfort, as time marched forward.

    <hr>

    Ferris leaned against a wall just outside the bedroom, dreading the upcoming visit of his lady. He had just finished freshly applying more makeup to Fourier, making him temporarily resemble his old self superficially.

    Lady Crusch¡¯s visits had always raised Fourier¡¯s spirits before, but what would happen if she revealed the truth he¡¯d just learned? Was there any way he could keep the knowledge that Fourier¡¯s Father had died away from him? He was already in a precarious state, and it was Fourier¡¯s will more than anything else that kept the worst of the illness at bay, should it falter¡­

    Yet the King had apparently refused to believe his entire family might die off, and hadn¡¯t left any instructions on what to do afterwards. Fourier might be uncrowned at the moment, but it was plausible that his dying wishes would be taken seriously.

    Ferris grit his teeth and felt like vomiting. It hurt to even think of informing his best friend that his entire family had died, just so that they could figure out what to do next. Especially when he knew Fourier would set aside his pain and do his best for the kingdom he loved.

    At that moment, he hated it. He hated the kingdom that would put this pressure on his friends, he hated the scheming nobles that were likely to take advantage of this, he hated the people on the streets that seemed more worried about the dragon, and most of all, he hated himself for being so powerless and unable to stop any of it.

    In his heart of hearts, Ferris was glad that the final decision was not his to make. Crusch would have to be the one to choose whether or not to tell him, and Ferris would only have to abide by her decision. He loathed himself for being so weak-hearted, but Crusch was Fourier¡¯s friend too. She would understand what he would want.

    His ears twitched as he heard footsteps approaching.

    He was almost too afraid to look up, but when he did, he saw Crusch walking towards him. Her pace was even, but looked slightly stilted, and while most might not notice the subtle signs through her makeup, Ferris liked to think that he could be considered an expert at noticing everything about his lady. It seemed that whatever decision she had come to, it had not been an easy one to make.

    ¡°Ferris,¡± she greeted, a touch of weariness in her voice. ¡°I¡¯m not surprised to see you here, but I do wish that you¡¯d take better care of yourself. Fourier has expressed his worry about you several times before.¡±

    Ferris closed his eyes and turned away from his lady, too ashamed to face her. It was hard enough listening to Fourier¡¯s concerns for him directly, hearing it from her was far too much.

    Especially when having to deal with delivering gruesome news.

    Crusch was not content to allow him his silence, however, and reached out with a gloved hand to tilt his head to face hers.

    ¡°Ferris, please,¡± she said, her words filled with an uncharacteristic amount of emotion. ¡°It¡¯s hard enough to see Fourier in such a state. Pushing yourself until you join him is not the answer.¡±

    Ferris turned his head away slightly, but didn¡¯t pull away from her touch. ¡°Ferri is fine. I know my limits very well and would never abandon Lady Crusch during a trying time like this.¡±

    ¡°Even assuming you¡¯re right, and you don¡¯t collapse¡­ Ferris, seeing you in such a state hurts both me and His Highness. You are one of our closest friends, and if we absolutely must allow His Highness to leave us, we should allow him to do it with confidence.¡±

    She paused, her breath catching a bit as she inhaled. ¡°We will take care of each other, and the kingdom in return.¡±

    Unable to help himself, Ferris leaned out of the touch in shock. How could Crusch speak with any acceptance towards Fourier¡¯s death?

    Yet when he opened his mouth, he couldn¡¯t make a sound. For one look into Crusch amber eyes and he could see them wet with tears. Such words did not come out of her easily, but Crusch knew that they were what Fourier truly needed, rather than his own weak heart.

    Crusch placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, before walking past him and through the door leading to Fourier, leaving him to dwell on his thoughts alone.

    <hr>

    A sharp knock rapped on the door, causing Fourier to stir from his uneasy slumber, but thankfully he didn¡¯t wake, as drained as he was from finding out the truth about his family. Mere days had passed since his father¡¯s death, and he still wasn¡¯t sleeping well.

    Ferris sprung to his feet, walking towards the door, his fingers forming claws with his hand and practically crackling with magic as he prepared to render the unfortunate soul on the other side unconscious.

    To have the gall to attempt to enter at a time like this¡­ Ferris would silence them, then ensure they never repeated their mistake.

    But as he opened the door and stepped towards them, Ferris saw the intruder had already retreated from the doorway, out of his reach.

    He was an old man, his figure thin and his hair long and grey. He wore strange white makeup on his face, the only colour being the purple highlights around his eyes. That purple spread to the clothes he was dressed in, a colourful outfit that was more reminiscent of a jester than of nobility.

    He held a small wooden cube in his hands, some kind of puzzle-box that radiated a faint amount of mana to Ferris¡¯s senses.

    But neither the garish wardrobe nor the odd behaviour was the most striking feature of the man. His two eyes shone with intense wisdom, one a calming blue, the other a harsh yellow.

    ¡°A~h so this is the right place,¡± the man drawled, his voice almost sounding as if he was singing. He flipped the box in his hands over, and tapped the side of it, causing it to light up for a split-second.

    He tilted his head back down the corridor. ¡°Clind, could you ensure we are not disturbed? I will not require your assistance here.¡±

    Ferris could vaguely make out another person out of the corner of his eye, but he could not drag his eyes away from the man in front of him.

    ¡°Mi~ght I join you inside?¡± the man asked, turning back to him. ¡°It would be best if this was not dela~yed.¡±

    Ferris blinked at the man, suddenly realising his mouth was agape.

    It had taken a moment, but Ferris had recognized the man, despite the fact that he had never in his life encountered him. In the entire kingdom, there was only one who could possibly fit this appearance.

    Roswaal K Mathers¡ªthe elderly Margrave of the northern regions and the kingdom¡¯s reclusive Court Mage¡ªstood before Ferris in all his glory.

    The man¡¯s abilities were not widely known, but it wouldn¡¯t surprise Ferris to learn that he could prevent the magic currently crackling in Ferris¡¯s hand from affecting him. Especially while carrying that strange, mana-emitting box.

    While Ferris didn¡¯t know much about the elusive Margrave, he did know he was famous for the metias he created.

    But Roswaal was making no threatening moves with it, and seemed to be respectfully keeping his distance.

    Ferris withdrew his hand, but didn¡¯t make any moves to let the man inside.

    The Margrave had not been in the capital since Ferris¡¯s tenure with the knights had begun. He hadn¡¯t even visited when the royal family had fallen sick. Ferris wasn¡¯t aware that the man had even left his domain in the northwest.

    As Court Mage, illnesses weren¡¯t the man¡¯s responsibility or area of expertise, yet Ferris had only thought about the man with disdain.

    There had been rumours that he had been searching for alternate methods with which to cure the mysterious illness, but to Ferris, they had sounded like little more than excuses. Regardless, nothing had ever come from it, so he thought that those rumours had been nothing more than idle gossip.

    But now that the man was standing before him, his face calm and a hint of a smile on his lips, Ferris found his disdain crumbling. A spark of emotion had taken alight in his chest, one he couldn¡¯t control, despite his existing concerns.

    Many nobles had tried to get close to Fourier, in order to glean what the future of the kingdom might hold. Most were turned away by the guards, and Ferris had dealt with the few that managed to slip past.

    The most likely answer to Roswaal¡¯s presence was that he was the exact same, that he wanted to talk to Fourier personally and find out his thoughts on the next ruler, the future of the kingdom, and his own position.

    And yet¡­

    The spark in his heart wouldn¡¯t go out. Ferris couldn¡¯t help but cling desperately onto that feeling, that had been absent from his life for far too long now. Hope surged in him, hope that maybe, just maybe, the Margrave had found something.

    Even so, he made sure to keep his tone low, to prevent it from reaching his prince¡¯s ears.

    ¡°Ferri hopes you have a very good reason to be coming in at such a time!¡±

    ¡°I ca~me as urgently as I could,¡± the man responded. ¡°While I would have loved to have come earlier, I was unfo~rtunately only recently given permission to perform more invasive tests on the bodies of previous carriers of this ¡®illness¡¯.¡±

    It took a moment for those words to sink in, but when they did, Ferris'' eyes widened in shock.

    Invasive tests? Does he mean¡­?

    As a Royal Healer, Ferris had been given access to a number of bodies to further his studies in biology. Healing magic might not exactly work on them, but they were amazing studying aids all the same.

    Still, he couldn''t help but feel a little sorry for those commoners whose bodies he had violated, even if all of them had agreed to sell their bodies after death in return for a Gold Coin to be paid to their families.

    When magic was used to its utmost to try and uncover the secrets of the body, it became an unstoppable force, ripping apart everything in its path. It was dangerous and forbidden to use such a technique on the living, for fear of the harm it would invariably cause. But the dead were dead, so some practitioners performed autopsies to discover the root cause of a person¡¯s death. While the process was not illegal to perform with permission¡ªand in many cases, had led to medical breakthroughs¡ªmany healers could not bear to witness the process, and fewer still could stomach the act of doing it themselves.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    A dead body had no mana, no Od, no will left with which to fight against the technique. Thus, the magic wreaked havoc on the bodies. Skin would bleed and rip apart, bones would crack and jut out, and the internal organs and muscle tissue would simply dissolve into red paste.

    Even Ferris found the sight disturbing. The thought of doing that to Fourier¡¯s own family¡­

    That the man in front of him had proudly announced doing such a thing to Royalty was near unthinkable.

    But in the end, if it saves Fourier¡­

    Despite knowing exactly how Fourier would feel about the man¡¯s actions, Ferris could not bring himself to voice any objections.

    The King himself had declared that none of his children¡¯s corpses would be desecrated after it had been briefly discussed in the past, so for it to have taken place meant that such wishes had been ignored, and the only way for that to have been done officially was a full council meeting.

    ¡°Even so, I can¡¯t just let you approach His Highness,¡± Ferris said, standing firm. ¡°If you¡¯ve found a cure, show me the method, and I will heal him myself.¡±

    Ferris couldn¡¯t bear to risk his prince. The powers that he had cultivated for Fourier and Crusch had already allowed him to become the greatest healer in the country. If he allowed someone less skilled than him to try, then it would all be worthless.

    ¡°Ah~ as much as I would like to do so, that would be troubleso~me,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°The method I have uncovered is not healing magic per se. Rather, it¡¯s a particular application of Yin and Yang. From what I¡¯ve heard, such affinities are beyond your abilities, no?¡±

    Ferris tensed up. He had great skill in Water magic, but Roswaal¡¯s statement was correct. He lacked any ability with the other affinities. Few had talent in more than one.

    And Yin and Yang were the rarest of the lot. It was to the extent that Ferris didn¡¯t know if anyone in the kingdom was capable of using both at once. Anyone, except the man that stood before him.

    ¡°...it¡¯ll be safe, right?¡± he asked, his voice coming out barely louder than a whisper. ¡°Fourier won¡¯t be harmed?¡±

    Roswaal nodded. ¡°You have my word.¡±

    Ferris slowly took a deep breath in and met Roswaal¡¯s eyes with his own, searching them for any trace of malice. The man¡¯s face was unreadable, but the hope that had been rekindled refused to abate, insisting that he take this chance, maybe the only chance he¡¯d ever get.

    Taking a step to the side, he watched as the man entered the room and crouched to examine Fourier. He remained still for a moment, and Ferris took the opportunity to circle around to the other side of the room. He was willing to trust the man to a certain extent, but he still didn¡¯t want his view of Fourier blocked in any way.

    ¡°Yes, it is just as with the third Prince,¡± Roswaal murmured, his voice deathly quiet. ¡°His Highness Fourier has been inflicted with that very same ¡®illness¡¯.¡±

    There was an odd inflection to his voice as he said the last word. Ferris couldn¡¯t pick up exactly what he meant. It was as if Roswaal found something about it distasteful.

    Then Roswaal drew himself up, speaking normally again, the phase passing so quickly that Ferris thought he had imagined it. ¡°Thankfully, with my previ~ous testing, performing a cure without any damage should be possible. We will need to have a disti~nguished healer help him recover afterwards, but as you are here, I do~n¡¯t believe we¡¯ll have a problem.¡±

    Then Roswaal took a deep breath and gently placed his hands on Fourier¡¯s head.

    Immediately after making contact, Fourier jerked, his limbs tensing, but then suddenly went still. Ferris took a half-step forward, reacting on instinct to protect Fourier, but then stopped. As a master of Water Magic, he recognized that reaction. Roswaal had no doubt performed some kind of paralysing spell, as was the norm for intrusive healing magic. It was safer for the patient to do so prior to treatment so that they didn¡¯t injure themselves if the magic caused them to spasm.

    Ferris retook his position away from the bed, keeping himself very still. He was well aware that at the rate he was wasting away, Fourier wouldn¡¯t even last a week. As much as it hurt, he had to remain immobile, so as not to distract Roswaal.

    His resolve was immediately questioned when Fourier let out a low moan of pain. But Ferris dared not interrupt the procedure now that he had allowed it to start.

    The next few minutes were some of the longest in his life. He clenched his fists so hard that his nails drew blood, and he barely noticed as he healed himself, only to reopen the wounds a few seconds later when Fourier once again moaned in agony.

    Finally, Roswaal let out a breath and straightened up.

    He glanced over at Ferris, and nodded his head.

    ¡°We~ll, that was more co~mplicated than I had anticipated. Mi~ght I ask that you check him?¡±

    Ferris could barely bring himself to breathe, as he stumbled forward, forcing himself not to trip over his own feet. He gently kneeled down on the bed, stretching his hands to almost touch Fourier¡¯s midsection. Then he took a slow, deep breath to try to calm down, and his gate flared to life.

    The mana sprung forth from his hand, a shining orb of light materialising above Fourier, bathing him in a blue glow.

    Out of the corner of his eyes, Ferris saw Roswaal tilt his head at the display, one eye closing so that only his blue one was revealed. There was an odd expression on his face, but Ferris couldn¡¯t spare the brainpower to try and figure it out.

    He was entirely occupied by guiding his magic through Fourier¡¯s body. Strands of mana twined around the organs, the threads touching spots to coax internal wounds closed, and reducing swelling wherever it occurred. Most importantly of all, it guided Fourier¡¯s own mana through the steps of healing the most vital areas, particularly the heart and spine, as it was dangerous to use foreign mana on those areas directly.

    It was something Ferris had done countless times over the course of the disease. It helped, but it merely treated the symptoms of the disease. The root cause had remained elusive and untreatable, no matter what Ferris had tried to catch it with.

    But this time, something was different.

    Every time he had treated him before, the damage had resisted his healing, as if it were a living creature, clinging desperately onto Fourier¡¯s body, interfering with his attempts to communicate his will to Fourier¡¯s mana.

    Now though, there was nothing. Ferris¡¯s magic swept through his internals, fixing everything it found. It was to the extent that he had to call back his magic, lest it use up too much of Fourier¡¯s reserves. The prince¡¯s strength was limited, so Ferris focused only on the most essential areas, utilising his own mana wherever he could.

    Then, he was finished, and he slowly leaned back. His arms were tense, and he felt like he had run around the entire palace.

    But his worries weren¡¯t over yet. He waited as Fourier¡¯s eyes fluttered open, dreading the moment the illness would somehow find its way back, for his healing to be undone, for him to see his friend''s ruined body decay further. But¡­

    ¡°Ferris? What are you doing?¡± Fourier asked. ¡°I thought we had agreed for you to limit your healing sessions to when I¡¯m awake? You can¡¯t push yourself too far.¡±

    ¡­But as Fourier spoke, Ferris could hear his voice growing stronger, with a clarity that it hadn¡¯t possessed in weeks.

    It hadn¡¯t even been a conscious thought that did it, Ferris was used to Fourier pushing his broken body in order to comfort him and others. Healing Fourier¡¯s throat as he spoke had become practically second nature, and yet this time rather than acting as a simple pain remedy, his magic instead found and fixed the wear and tear that hindered his voice.

    With a choked sob, Ferris threw himself onto Fourier, clutching him tightly. It seemed too good to be true, it couldn¡¯t be true, and yet it was.

    ¡°Ferris!? What are you¡ª!?¡± Fourier protested, as he was pressed against the bed by Ferris¡¯s body. But he cut off as he too realised that his voice did not catch or waver, and his limbs moved with more strength than they had in weeks.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Fourier asked, attempting to shift so that he could allow Ferris to hide his tears against his shirt, then he suddenly tensed as he noticed that they weren¡¯t alone.

    Fourier locked eyes in a silent contest with the elderly man leaning against the wall. But when Roswaal made no moves to interrupt, Fourier turned away and focused on Ferris instead.

    ¡°Ferris, didn¡¯t I say before that smiling fits you better than tears?¡±

    Ferris tried to compose himself, all too aware of the intruding presence looming behind them, but found that the tears couldn¡¯t stop flowing. To think that he had always accused Fourier of being the cry baby among the group.

    After what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, Ferris calmed down enough that he could roll off Fourier, which allowed Fourier to move his arms to bring him into a sitting position, his arms trembling.

    Fourier might be stronger, but he¡¯s still far too weak to be lifting himself up.

    Ferris leaned against him, taking most of Fourier¡¯s weight so the prince could lean against the headboard.

    Once Fourier was stable, they turned to face the man. Fourier¡¯s eyes were hard and suspicious, but Ferris stood at his side smiling brightly, holding nothing but gratitude for the man who had granted his wish.

    ¡°I take it that your presence here is not unrelated to Ferris being able to heal me, Roswaal?¡±

    ¡°That is correct, your high~ness,¡± Roswaal said, bowing with one hand over his chest, his other hand placing his puzzle-box on the bedside table. Fourier¡¯s eyes followed it, but turned back up to Roswaal when the man began speaking again. ¡°I performed a particular technique utilising Yin and Yang to destroy~ the illness itself, which allowed Sir Felix¡¯s masterful healing to finally take effect.¡±

    Ferris felt Fourier twitch against him at the mention of the rare affinities, but even studying Fourier¡¯s face, he saw no sign of the agitation he must have felt.

    ¡°Such elements have nothing to do with curing illnesses normally,¡± Fourier said, a trace of suspicion in his voice. ¡°I¡¯m not the most knowledgeable about magic¡ªcertainly not as knowledgeable as you, Court Mage¡ªbut my tutors ensured that I had ample knowledge of all the elements so that I knew how to command magic users.¡±

    Ferris wondered where he was going with this. Clearly whatever technique Roswaal had used had worked. Had Fourier somehow managed to already realise just how Roswaal had created this technique?

    Roswaal on the other hand seemed to be thrilled at the Prince¡¯s question, his smile widening as he answered.

    ¡°Inde~ed, Yin and Yang are unable to heal any kind of disease,¡± he said, closing one eye so that only the yellow one shone through. ¡°But then, you were never ill, were you?¡±

    Ferris started. Never ill? But¡­ but he was!

    He glanced at Fourier, who looked as confused as he did, but Ferris could see that his mind was racing, trying to figure out what Roswaal meant.

    ¡°But then¡­¡± Fourier finally started, ¡°was it¡­ was it magic?¡±

    Roswaal¡¯s face tensed the tiniest amount¡ªwas that disappointment?¡ªbut then he smiled broadly and spread his arms wide. ¡°Yes, it was. A particular bra~nd of magic, known as a curse.¡±

    ¡°A curse?¡± Fourier asked. His brows furrowed as he thought on the word. ¡°...you mean¡­ That magic style from Gusteko?¡±

    Roswaal nodded. ¡°There are qui~te a few curse users in that land, but the technique has spread far since its founding. ¡±

    Ferris felt himself going stiff. Magic? The illness, the one that killed almost the entirety of the royal family¡­ it was magic? But then¡­ doesn¡¯t that mean that it was intentional?

    He went cold and leaned closer to Fourier, who bore the weight of both Ferris and this revelation without complaint.

    ¡°But who¡ª¡± Fourier started, then he cut himself off, glanced at the door, and lowered his voice to a whisper. ¡°Who would have the capability to curse the entire royal family?¡±

    ¡°You needn¡¯t worry about evesdroppers,¡± Roswaal said, flicking a hand towards the puzzle-box. ¡°Ever since I disco~vered this plot, I have been taking every conceivable precaution to prevent undesi~rable elements from learning of my movements. This metia ensures that we cannot be overheard from outsi~de this room.¡±

    ¡°As to the culprit¡­ unfortu~nately I have no ide~a,¡± Roswaal said with a shrug. ¡°A curse must be cast on contact with the intended target, but who can say who could have approached every member of the family? When I learned of the unusual illness, I sent a letter to His Majesty mentioning the possibility of that foul magic, and I then scoured my manor for anything that could be used to discover more.¡±

    His tone had taken on a grave note, though his smile remained plastered on his face. ¡°I believe your father passed on my warnings to the guards, so perhaps they¡¯ve discovered something since then.¡±

    Ferris had noticed that the guards had looked paranoid for quite some time, but had always figured that it was simply the dismal condition of the royal family that was doing it. Had there been more involved that he hadn¡¯t known about?

    Roswaal''s smile faded, and his eyes met Fourier¡¯s.

    ¡°I did find some useful information in a particular library,¡± he said, placing an unusual emphasis on the last few words, to which Fourier nodded with understanding. Whatever hidden code the two of them had used, Ferris couldn¡¯t interpret.

    ¡°The best way to unravel a cur~se is to know how it was used in the past and how the caster created it,¡± Roswaal continued. ¡°But as I did not possess that knowledge, I soon realised that there was only one option for the possibility of a cure. I had to extract the knowledge from the bodies of those afflicted by it.¡±

    Fourier did not react for a moment as the implications sunk in, and then his face slowly began to grimace.

    ¡°By that¡­¡± he began softly, ¡°I take it to mean that you destroyed the bodies of my brothers, defiling them beyond all recognition? Despite my Father¡¯s express orders against it!?¡±

    Ferris didn¡¯t need his enhanced senses to pick up the sheer anger in Fourier¡¯s voice. He felt a sinking in his chest. He wished that they didn''t need to have this conversation, especially so soon. Fourier had just been saved, it was unfair that he had to immediately process his family¡¯s demise.

    ¡°I did try to ask for permission beforeha~nd, but your father refused me and had his refusal recorded in the annals of the court. It wasn¡¯t until your Father¡¯s dea~th that I was able to gather the support to overturn that order,¡± Roswaal stated, clearly refusing to be shamed.

    ¡°If I had been able to examine them earlier, then your Father would be alive now.¡±

    Fourier¡¯s hands clenched against the sheets, and if Ferris hadn¡¯t been supporting him he would have fallen over.

    ¡°To say such a thing about your King¡­ and to his son, at that? Are you unafraid of death? Or at the very least, the dissolution of your family?¡± Fourier wondered, his anger having left him exhausted and ready to hear Roswaal out.

    ¡°The thou~ght occurred to me, Your Highness, but this was bigger than the Mathers family,¡± Roswaal said. There was regret in his tone, but his face was still unrepentant. ¡°I¡¯m afraid this kingdom couldn¡¯t withstand the alternative. Not only would the Royal Family be wiped out in its entirety, but the same could happen to any future leaders we managed to find. No, this ne~eded to be solved now.¡±

    He spread his arms wide. ¡°Such a curse could be the end of our be~loved country after all. I briefly considered trying to do my testing in secret, but that would leave the perpetuation of the crime to go unpunished. So I instead decided to simply accept my likely fate, and to make the mo~st out of it.¡±

    He fell silent, but Fourier made no move to speak. He was alone with his thoughts, with only his own counsel to guide him.

    Ferris wanted nothing more than to help his prince, but what did he know of politics, of doing what was right in spite of his own feelings? He wished Crusch were with them at that moment. If only it had been her that had been present when Fourier woke up, rather than Roswaal, the bearer of bad news and ill tidings. Then¡­ surely then, everything would have been okay, if only for a little while.

    ¡°...Very well then,¡± Fourier finally decided. ¡°As the future king of this land and kin to the bodies you tore apart, I will pardon you from any official sanction for your choice. In return, you must find and deliver the individual or group that committed the curse upon us.¡±

    ¡°I will of course endea~vor to meet the lofty expectations you hold for me, Your Maje~sty.¡± Roswaal said, his mouth drawing into a slight smile as he bowed.

    As those words sank in, Ferris tensed and stared at Roswaal. The difference between ¡®Highness¡¯ and ¡®Majesty¡¯ was only the difference of a single word, but that word could not have implied more. While ¡®Your Highness¡¯ could be used to address any of the royal family, ¡®Your Majesty¡¯ could only refer to a single person.

    By uttering those words, Roswaal had acknowledged Fourier as King.

    Ferris looked to Fourier to see his reaction, but he made no movement, staring unflinchingly at Roswaal.

    ¡°I would also like to request that my pardon be announced to the church as soon as you can. It would be trou~blesome if my actions were revealed without a means to defend myself,¡± Roswaal continued.

    ¡°The church?¡± Fourier asked, tilting his head, a trace of confusion in his voice. ¡°The Church of the Divine Dragon? I fail to see why they would be an issue. They have no power in the court, and regardless, am I not the sole survivor of the royal line? I will take my position at the head of the church at my coronation.¡±

    ¡°You may indeed become the leader,¡± Roswaal said, ¡°but you will not be able to control every aspect of their actions. Every priest is their own individual, and many will no doubt take issue with me. After all, they revere your family almost to the same extent that they worship the Divine Dragon Volcanica. To mutilate the corpses of your family members would be unthinkable to them.¡±

    ¡°And,¡± he continued softly, ¡°much can change in a few short months.¡±

    His voice had taken on a gentle, almost grandfatherly note. ¡°You must understand, Your Majesty, the people have not taken the illness of your family very well. We of the court have attempted to keep things under wraps, but word leaks. Many among the citizens¡ªand indeed, even some of those among the nobility¡ªhave joined the faith in the wake of the rumours of your family¡¯s decline. The church¡¯s influence has grown to a significant extent during your time sick.¡±

    ¡°...why was I not informed of this?¡± Fourier asked. ¡°A significant change in the politics of the court¡­¡± he trailed off, then grimaced. ¡°Ah. I already know. There were more important details to be discussed, and Milkotov must not have wanted to cause me undue worry.¡±

    ¡°There is also another issue,¡± Roswaal continued. ¡°While I would much prefer to freely search for those who committed these crimes, as Court Mage and head of the Mathers family, I have additional responsibilities which will delay me.¡±

    He lifted his head, his face grim. ¡°Additionally, I would expect that anybody who was able to create a po~werful curse will be all too aware of my family''s reputation, and either avoid interaction with me, or find a way to interfere and delay me further. Already, a number of unusual incidents have occurred in the Mathers domain, which as acting lord I am honorbou~nd to respond to as quickly as possible.¡±

    Fourier narrowed his eyes, and even Ferris could tell that the margrave was angling for something.

    ¡°Do you have an alternative in mind then?¡± Fourier asked.

    ¡°I do. With your permission, I¡¯d like to take an unofficial apprentice and pass down much of my knowledge on curses to them,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°If they are not known to have the capacity to detect curses by touch as I am, then they are far more likely to be able to find the culprit. Normally one would need a vast amount of knowledge that takes years to impart properly, not to mention several years of practice with Yin and Yang magics. There are, however, ways to circumvent such requirements, and one way is with a prodigious talent with Water Mana.¡±

    Ferris had been trying to remain unobtrusive for the course of the conversation, but when Roswaal spoke those words, he felt himself tense up.

    ¡°And it would need to be someone who can be trusted absolutely,¡± Roswaal said, turning to look at him, allowing his mismatched eyes to look deeply into Ferris¡¯s own as if to properly evaluate him. ¡°I believe Sir Felix fits those requirements. Indeed, he may very well be the only person in the kingdom who does.¡±

    Ferris felt that he should be on guard. It was deeply suspicious that Roswaal would make such an offer, appearing so free of strings. There were many people who desired the power that magic could provide, and the Mathers family¡ªas the Court Mages of Lugunica¡ªhad a more complete understanding of magic than any other.

    Yet the idea that he could be helpful to Fourier, and find out who had nearly killed his friend was overwhelming, and Ferris knew deep down that if he had been approached with the offer directly, he would have accepted in a heartbeat. Even if there was a possibility that this was some kind of political play to entrap him, Ferris couldn¡¯t turn it down.

    Still, with decisions that would impact so much, how they proceeded wouldn¡¯t be up to him¡ªor even Roswaal. After all, both the Mathers'' family secrets and Ferris¡ªa Royal Knight¡ªbelonged to the Kingdom of Lugunica.

    Breaking the eye contact that Roswaal had initiated, Ferris allowed his eyes to drift upwards instead, doing his best to avoid Fourier¡¯s eyes. He could practically feel the prince¡¯s gaze on his skin, but Ferris made no moves to help him. The decision was something Fourier was supposed to make alone. That said, he did allow himself to nudge the prince¡¯s side slightly, his own way of saying that he trusted Fourier, and that he would accept whatever decision he reached.

    ¡°...Very well,¡± Fourier said, then raised his voice, beginning to speak with the formality befitting a royal order. ¡°I¡ªFourier of the House Lugunica¡ªorder you, Roswaal K Mathers, to impart the knowledge of how to detect curses to my Royal Knight Ferris, and for the two of you to collaborate on how to find the wretches that tried to destroy my family.¡±

    Ferris allowed a smile to cross his lips despite the grave tone that Fourier had taken, pleased that Fourier would choose to rely on him for something this important.

    Unknowing of the heart-ache this decision would cause in the future, or that it would shake the very kingdom of Lugunica itself.

 Your Majesty

    Fourier surveyed the room with a small smile on his face, dressed in his formal attire for the first time in months. The only addition to his usual getup was a thick jacket, and a cane that he rested part of his weight on. It had taken a little guidance, but he had soon mastered the skill that let him play it off casually and treat it like a fashion accessory, rather than a requirement to move.

    Thankfully he¡¯d been able to argue Ferris down to just the cane, as originally Ferris had wanted him to be luggage on a palanquin. It had only been his carefully thought out arguments of it being a bad image for both his strength and his care for his people that had seen his friend stand down. That, and Fourier¡¯s flat refusal to consider such a thing.

    In all honesty, it was probably his pig-headedness that had won the day, but he preferred to consider it a victory of his logic.

    In truth, he just wanted to move his body as much as he possibly could, now that he was capable of it, and he knew that he¡¯d be paying for his refusal of the palanquin later, in the form of his exhaustion worsening.

    Still, he noted that many of the nobility''s eyes were being drawn to the cane, and he was thankful for the heavier coat hiding his arm shaking.

    ¡°Your Majesty, are you well? Is it true that you have conquered the illness that took your family?¡± asked a noble Fourier wasn¡¯t familiar with. Fourier gave a tight smile and tilted his head in affirmation of the question.

    Pretending that his family had died of an illness made his skin rankle now that he knew the truth of the matter, but they needed to convince the mastermind behind this that they had broken the curse without realising the truth.

    He and Roswaal had discussed late into the night about what might accidentally break a curse, with the most likely answer being a curse finishing its job and ending, with the target potentially being healed afterwards, something only the finest healers would be capable of.

    Such a sequence of events was extraordinarily unlikely, and it wasn¡¯t something the kingdom would be able to reliably replicate.

    It was, in short, blood in the water. Fake blood, but hopefully the mastermind would not be able to tell the difference.

    They had remained discrete with their assassination, so it was likely that they desired some measure of secrecy. In that case, it was possible they would attempt to rely on the curse once more to finish the job. After all, if it hadn¡¯t been for Roswaal, the palace healers would have to attribute a second bout of ¡®sickness¡¯ to Fourier suffering a relapse.

    Such a ruse was only possible because Fourier was the sole survivor. If Roswaal had managed to save even one other, then the curse-user would have realised what had happened immediately. Two people surviving by accident was just too unlikely.

    The idea that he would have to lie about what had happened during his family¡¯s funeral was especially galling, and he could only hope that Roswaal and Ferris would manage a miracle and deliver him the culprit before then.

    He was aware of the fact that it wouldn¡¯t be just his people mourning during the official ceremony. Miklotov had warned him that representatives from the other countries would be present and that they would be looking for holes in the official story and weaknesses in the country that they could exploit.

    Weaknesses that the truth would show all too readily.

    If the true story came out in the future, after he had proven his mettle as King, then it would be acceptable, especially if they had a culprit to pin the blame on, to reassure the people that this wouldn''t happen again.

    Father, would you make the same decision? Or would you trust your people, despite the council suggesting otherwise?

    Fourier thought of his father¡¯s face, of the kindly way he had smiled down at him as a child. He had seemed so wise, so all-knowing back then.

    But now with the experience that came with adulthood, Fourier saw that not all of his father¡¯s decisions had been wise. It brought to mind Roswaal''s remark that his father could have been saved if only he had allowed access to the bodies earlier.

    Normally he would have simply dismissed such a remark. If there was one thing his father told all of them, it was that every decision they ever made would be questioned and that once a decision was made, they should stick with it regardless of if it was right or wrong.

    But in the end, it had been Roswaal who had saved his life, something that he wouldn¡¯t forget in the future. It left him with the cold certainty that the Court Mage was likely right that his father had as good as killed himself and the rest of their family with his decision to not tear apart the first of them to fall.

    Yet, even as darker thoughts tried to pull him down, Fourier forced his smile to deepen, he needed to reassure his kingdom that he was fine. More than that, he needed to show his friends and himself that as well. Nothing would come of wallowing, and his people needed him now more than ever.

    ¡°Your Majesty, now that you will soon be made King, will our foreign policies be changed?¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty, now that you will soon be made King, will our taxes be revised?¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty, now that you will soon be made King, what will our stance be on the demi-humans?¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty, now that you will soon be made King¡­?¡±

    Fourier kept the smile on by sheer force of will, not faltering under the barrage of questions that assaulted him. All were posed respectfully, but most probed for weaknesses or information that they could use to their advantage.

    Everyone here was doing him the courtesy of addressing him by his future title, even though he hadn¡¯t been crowned just yet. Even after an entire day of people calling him ¡®Majesty¡¯ he still wasn¡¯t used to it. The first time Roswaal had called him that, it had almost felt like a blow. It made him miss his old title of ¡®Highness¡¯. His new one came with new powers, but it also came with responsibilities.

    He was thankful that Miklotov had helped write up a scroll listing many of the common questions that had been on everyone¡¯s lips over the past few days, as well as the history of prior decisions made on them.

    He knew that he would have to make his mark soon¡ªsomething that would invite new allies and enemies by itself¡ªbut he reminded himself that doing so solely because he didn¡¯t want to rely on old precedent would be foolish.

    There was one more decision that needed to be announced tonight, even if it did leave a sour taste in his mouth.

    It was petty, but a part of him had hoped that he could keep Ferris as his sole dedicated knight.

    And yet, as much as he loved his friend, he was well aware that martial prowess was not something Ferris possessed, nor was it something Fourier himself truly excelled at. Over the years he had spent training to defeat Crusch, he had developed into a powerful swordsman who could have risen to the position of a knight on merit alone.

    Sadly, even such heights of skill were too meagre for the situation he found himself in. Even if he had been at full health, he was all too aware that if pitted against some of the most skilled knights in the Kingdom, it would be all he could do to stall for time. Winning wouldn¡¯t even be a possibility.

    ¡°I have an announcement tonight,¡± he spoke loudly to the assembled nobles and civil servants, ¡°of a promotion well-earned. Julius Juukulius was key in a mission to destroy a forbidden spell, one which could have upturned the Kingdom itself. Unfortunately, the illness took me soon after that event and a fitting promotion had to have been delayed. But with my recovery, I now proclaim Julius Juukulius, the ¡®Finest of Knights¡¯, shall henceforth be appointed to the position of my personal knight.¡±

    There was an eruption of whispers as people shared unsure looks. But those whispers were difficult to hear over the din of the clapping, as Julius stepped into the spotlight.

    Julius Juukulius was a sharp-looking young man with light purple hair and yellow eyes, who was well known in the kingdom for his skill.

    The knight had been shadowing Fourier throughout the night, both in preparation for this moment, and to support Fourier if the need arose. Even before his ceremony, he had started to act as Fourier¡¯s right-hand man.

    The hope was that by tying the promotion to his old deeds, it would seem less suspicious to the mastermind that Julius would now be by Fourier¡¯s side permanently. It was something that needed to be done, now that they knew the royal family had been targeted.

    And there was an additional, hidden benefit.

    Roswaal had already given Julius an overview on more common signs of curses to look out for. Although his Yang and Yin spirits were too young to be able to dispel curses¡ªor even properly detect them¡ªthey would be able to at least slow one down if Fourier fell ill again. Spirit Arts Users weren¡¯t common in Lugunica, and even among them, Julius was incredibly gifted due to his Divine Protection.

    Among the available knights, it was only Julius that had access to the necessary affinities of magic, and slowing a curse could be vital to ensuring Fourier¡¯s survival. Even though Roswaal would be staying in the capital to teach Ferris and ensure a cure was available, the extra breathing room Julius would be able to buy was worth assigning him to the new King¡¯s side.

    It was a plan that Fourier approved reluctantly. It pained him to think he wouldn¡¯t see Ferris as much as he was used to, but his friend seemed desperate to learn, so he had little choice.

    Julius¡¯s promotion also made Fourier seem that much more open to potentially having more personal knights elected, something the other nobles would focus on for much of the night.

    While Fourier did not actually intend to elect any more knights, it allowed him that much more time to solidify his stances on many of the other issues that had been touched upon and consider what choices his father and ancestors had made in turn.

    As tempting as it was to keep an eye out for Miklotov, it had been recommended that the two of them remain apart for the night, in an effort to show off some independence. Many already considered Miklotov to be the de facto leader of the nation, and it wouldn¡¯t do to reinforce that perception so early in Fourier¡¯s reign.

    For now, Fourier¡¯s main duty was to build trust in the nobility, and show that he was capable of rulership. He had found over the years that simple tricks like eye contact and remembering names helped immensely. But while some might be able to easily balance it and watch their surroundings, he struggled. So instead he simply outsourced it to his trusted friends, Julius keeping an eye on their surroundings.

    ¡°It¡¯s a shame that such a calamity could happen to your family, my lord,¡± another noble asked, relief evident in his tone, with only the mildest trace of fear underneath. ¡°Do you know how the royal family caught it?¡±

    This time, Fourier recognised the speaker. Rickart Hoffman was an older gentleman with slicked back greying hair, who Fourier had never seen wearing anything other than immaculate clothing. He¡¯d been a strong supporter of his family in the past, and likely could be relied on to continue supporting Fourier himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that it isn¡¯t currently known exactly what sort of disease that claimed my family,¡± Fourier lied without even a grimace, ¡°but rest assured that Healers are continuing to do research on the recorded symptoms and combing through past diseases to discover exactly what it could have been, and how it spread to us.¡±

    The words were spoken in the same soothing tone Fourier had been using for much of the day, and he saw Rickart relax slightly.

    ¡°Do you think it could be the result of the royal family hiring maids and butlers that came from the slums?¡± Rickart asked, and Fourier felt himself wince. He had been aware of the man¡¯s inclinations, but¡­

    ¡°They carry all sorts of strange and foreign diseases, some of which can easily be spread through the food that they prepared,¡± Rickart proclaimed.

    Fourier¡¯s own smile tightened and he inwardly wished that he could take Rickart aside and crush him in a duel, as the whispers began to spread from the scene Rickart had created.

    But he could not take such a rash action.

    Rickart was one of his most staunch supporters, and his intuition told him that the noble was not solely worried for himself. The man genuinely wanted Fourier to be safe, which allowed him to calm down.

    He had to handle this carefully. Otherwise, many of the servants would be out of a job and while it wouldn¡¯t affect the royal palace much when they could easily hire petty nobles, he refused to allow innocent people who had been doing their jobs to be let go solely to maintain a ruse.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t disturb His Majesty with such petty concerns, Rickart,¡± Leip Barielle cut in, his tone harsh. ¡°You know full well that it is the council''s responsibility to handle such matters.¡±

    Leip Barielle was another noble who had been trusted by his father quite a bit, and outwardly was even throwing his support behind him.

    However, unlike Rickart¡ªwho Fourier¡¯s intuition told him genuinely wanted to help¡ªLeip was instead trying to weaken his position and strengthen the council.

    Fourier could come up with several possibilities on what Liep was scheming and felt the beginning of a migraine forming in the back of his mind.

    But he couldn¡¯t let such a small thing make him retire from the conversation. He needed to handle this.

    He forced himself to straighten, thankful that he hadn¡¯t allowed his smile to fade, as well as for the makeup Ferris had applied.

    ¡°Rickart, I thank you for bringing your concerns directly to me, even if they are misplaced,¡± Fourier said, making sure to keep his voice even. ¡°As the ruler of Lugunica, I will need my vassals to be comfortable bringing complicated and troubling issues to my attention.¡±

    That was the honest truth. It would do no good to make the nobility think they shouldn¡¯t talk to him. Even if that did mean he had to humour Od-awful suggestions at times.

    ¡°However,¡± he continued, raising his voice so the gathered nobles could hear him easily, ¡°releasing our service staff from the castle would be a hasty mistake. The majority of them have served for years and are thus unlikely to have brought in such an illness, and for the newer ones, it is all the more imperative for them to be studied themselves so that we can cure any future outbreaks.¡±

    Fourier locked his eyes to Rickart¡¯s own, but he also kept his attention on Leip out of the corner of his eye and caught the man¡¯s brief scowl. Rickart relaxed further at Fourier¡¯s words and even seemed pleased to have been taken so seriously.

    Fourier then tapped his foot quietly against the floor in a pattern that he and Julius had agreed upon.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Julius cut into the conversation, bowing to the assembled nobles. ¡°I apologise for my indiscretion, but it is getting late, and you have another appointment to attend to.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Julius,¡± Fourier replied, barely managing to keep the wry smile off his face. ¡°Thank you for keeping track of time. It is easy to find it slipping away when dealing with such important matters and charming people.¡±

    The flattery was perhaps unnecessary, but it never hurt.

    It didn¡¯t take more than a few minutes before Fourier had made his exit. Once out of sight, he allowed himself to lean heavily on Julius¡¯s shoulder.

    His vision was swimming while his migraine had worsened. It felt like he had exhausted all his strength, and if it wasn¡¯t for his experience with the curse, he would have collapsed.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Julius said quietly, ¡°was it truly wise to push yourself so soon?¡±

    The knight wasn¡¯t perturbed in the slightest as he supported Fourier¡¯s weight. He didn¡¯t even seem winded, in stark contrast to Fourier¡¯s own condition.

    ¡°It was necessary to address the nobles before even more problems were created. Already it looks like it¡¯s going to take some time before things calm down,¡± Fourier said weakly, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Now that he had stopped faking haleness, the day¡¯s exhaustion was catching up to him, and he could barely walk straight. ¡°But they needed this. With the rest of my family gone¡­ they need to see that someone has things in hand.¡±

    Julius stretched an arm to the side, and a soft blue glow emerged from one of them.

    ¡°Kua, is it possible to restore any of His Majesty''s strength?¡±

    Fourier observed the blue light growing brighter in a daze, but he could tell from the disappointment in Julius¡¯s eyes what the answer was.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry, Julius, for someone such as I, even a little rest will restore much of my strength,¡± Fourier exclaimed, faking liveliness in his voice and gait.

    He could tell that the answer hadn¡¯t entirely reassured Julius, but unlike Ferris or Crusch, Julius accepted the answer and simply continued supporting him.

    But despite his skill at acting, as they grew closer to his chambers, he couldn¡¯t hide the fact that he needed to rely on Julius more.

    As Julius opened his chambers, Fourier found that he couldn¡¯t keep his eyes open any longer, and even the sound of Julius'' alarm soon faded.

    <hr>

    When his awareness came back to him, his first thought was that he wished it hadn¡¯t.

    The worst of the migraine had subsided, but his body felt as if it had swollen, with his arms suffering the worst. He already knew that he¡¯d face a long lecture from Ferris over this, and simply allowed himself to lie there, his senses slowly returning to normal, allowing him to hear quiet voices from some distance away.

    He tried to make sense of the words he was hearing, but the sounds were too indistinct. The only thing he could make out was the firm yet reassuring sound of a familiar voice.

    Crusch¡¯s voice.

    That realisation banished the last of his drowsiness. Without considering his present weakness, he moved to bring himself upright. But his body was not capable of performing even a simple action like that.

    Pain shot through his midsection, and he let out an involuntary moan.

    The voices went silent, and the doors were thrown open, revealing Crusch, as well as Julius, both peering into the room with concern.

    But Fourier had already lifted a hand to reassure them, ignoring the small pang that action brought.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he said, stifling any further sounds of discomfort before he could worry his friends further. ¡°I just tried to sit up too quickly.¡±

    Julius and Crusch exchanged a short glance, the disbelief evident from the way they hesitated as they moved, and the concern on their faces.

    Julius tried to keep his face blank, but Fourier had always been good at reading what people tried to hide, and he could see the worry in his eyes easily.

    But Julius was in perfect form when compared to Crusch. She appeared to have not bothered with covering her weakness with make-up, wearing her exhaustion openly. Seeing such a sight on the woman he loved hurt, but it also sent a slight thrill up his spine. It meant that she trusted that seeing such a sight wouldn¡¯t be the end of him anymore.

    Although, a part of him did wish¡ªperhaps hypocritically¡ªthat he wasn¡¯t missing his own makeup.

    ¡°Have I missed anything while I was out?¡± Fourier inquired, knowing what his priorities needed to be.

    Julius and Crusch shared another look before Julius bowed to Fourier and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him, and leaving the two of them alone for the first time since he had been cured.

    While he and Crusch had met on several occasions in the short time since he had been cured, there had always been at least one other person present, usually Ferris.

    Julius truly was the Finest of Knights, to allow them to talk alone, if only for a little while.

    ¡°From what I¡¯ve gathered,¡± Crusch began, walking to the bedside, ¡°your announcement of Sir Julius¡¯s promotion and seeing you in person have successfully managed to draw some attention away from your family''s deaths.¡±

    He could tell that she also didn¡¯t fully approve of his decision to push himself so soon, but unlike Ferris, she understood the weight of their positions and he knew full well that she would have done the same herself.

    ¡°Also, my father should be arriving soon, and will be taking over my efforts to use the Karsten¡¯s connections to push inquiry in a direction that won¡¯t imply the existence of the curse.¡±

    As she spoke, her voice took on a slightly despondent tone.

    Fourier found himself surprised for a moment, Crusch had never truly enjoyed handling the scheming nobles, even if¡ªlike many other things¡ªshe was talented at doing so. The fact that her father was soon going to be taking over that role should have been a relief for her.

    But then, something told him that she felt that lending the aid of the Karstens was one of the few methods she could use to help him.

    Without that, would she have any way left with which to help? Would she¡ª

    He felt a moment of sharp pain once more and saw his vision double as his hands clutched his head.

    Taking several slow deep breaths, he felt the pain slowly recede, and hoped that his exhaustion would fade quickly. Usually, he would be able to make startling leaps of logic and intuition without difficulty, but with the state his body was in, he couldn¡¯t concentrate properly. He felt off balance, as if something he had always relied on had been disrupted.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    He slowly brought himself upright, and then jerked back when he saw Crusch¡¯s face inches from his own. She had leaned down beside him while he had been convulsing, and a look of concern touched her face.

    She reached one hand for his forehead, and gently guided Fourier down so he lay flat.

    Realising that trying to resist would just make his pain worse, Fourier closed his eyes and let his mind relax. He focused on the comforting sensation of Crusch¡¯s touch, her hand stroking his forehead.

    He still felt exhausted, and briefly considered allowing himself to fall back into slumber, but the memory of Crusch¡¯s forlorn face gave him the resolve to continue.

    She needed a new task to work on, and for a moment he was tempted to ask her to stay with him. He had gotten used to Ferris always being by his side, and while he was grateful that Ferris had found something to work on, it left him feeling lonely.

    But, he found himself thinking, would that help Crusch?

    Staying near him had hurt Ferris far more than it had helped, and while the curse itself was gone, its aftermath would stay with Fourier for a while longer.

    No, he refused to weigh her down like that.

    He needed to give her a task that was uniquely suited to her. While Crusch had many talents, her most unique one was her Divine Protection of Wind Indication, which allowed her to tell when people were lying.

    Then, should he assign her to investigate independently from Ferris? The thought of putting her in danger sent a pang through his heart, but he knew that even without his orders that she would likely investigate anyways. In which case he should instead use his authority to give her free reign to investigate, and simply trust in her skills.

    ¡°Crusch, while it pains me to admit this,¡± Fourier began, ¡°it appears that the most pressing matter I must attend to is my own recovery. But that doesn¡¯t mean that we can allow the matter of the investigation to grow cold. While Ferris¡¯s lessons with Roswaal will pay off in the future, it will take time. Time we can spend pursuing other avenues of attack.¡±

    He paused to harden his resolve, and ignored the tears gathering in his eyes before saying, ¡°I will speak to the council and appoint you Captain of Public Safety. As King I have the power to appoint any of our citizens to the vacant positions left by my siblings.¡±

    ¡°Fourier,¡± Crusch whispered, hesitantly wiping the tears he hadn¡¯t realised were streaming down his face.

    He hadn¡¯t yet truly had a chance to mourn them. And he wouldn¡¯t for a while yet.

    He closed his eyes for a moment to regain his composure. When he was ready, he looked back at her.

    ¡°That position that will allow you to gather large amounts of information and investigate as you see fit,¡± he continued. ¡°I am charging you with the responsibility of finding the person who caused this. As the person closest to my heart, you are both trustworthy and skilled enough to handle such an investigation.¡±

    Even now, he wasn¡¯t sure that this was the right course of action, but he saw the worry fade from Crusch¡¯s eyes, replaced by a stormy resolve. Her amber eyes seemed to flash with lightning as she drew herself up.

    Fourier found himself smiling, his own worries fading away at the sight, even if he did feel a strangely nostalgic embarrassment as his attempt at flirting went right over Crusch¡¯s head.

    He could practically hear Ferris laughing at him, a reminder of brighter days, when getting Crusch¡¯s affection had been his foremost goal. A time when he never expected to have to deal with any issue bigger than his own love life.

    ¡°I will handle it, Your Majesty,¡± she said, her voice regaining its customary strength. ¡°Rest well knowing that it is being attended to.¡±

    Crusch stood to depart, and his last sight was of her back striding away, as his own eyes closed with a weariness he could no longer fight off.

    <hr>

    Mana rushed through Ferris¡¯s gate, coalescing in his hands into the standard healing orb he had used countless times. The light it gave off was intense, capable of healing almost any external injury, but it was not an external injury he was searching for.

    He dove deeper into the man¡¯s body, seeking the source of the affliction, but as far as he could tell, nothing was wrong. Even on closer examination of the man¡¯s hand, he only found a minor paralysis, but the root cause eluded him. It was as if there was nothing to find.

    He sighed, and pulled back his mana, looking up to meet Roswaal¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Nothing. Ferri can¡¯t find anything.¡±

    Ferris¡¯s first training session with the kingdom''s court mage had not been going well. He had hoped that with the margrave¡¯s expert guidance, he¡¯d be able to¡ªif not remove a curse¡ªat least detect the damn thing.

    ¡°You nee~dn¡¯t worry. These things take time,¡± Roswaal replied gently. ¡°And we are trying something which has not been practised in centuries. As the use of curses has fa~llen out of fashion, so too has the method to remove them.¡±

    He flexed both hands, and while one easily curved, the other barely even twitched due to the minute curse Roswaal had placed on his hand. According to Roswaal, such paralysis was atypical of curse magic, as curses were generally designed only to kill. Such minor curses weren''t even used to train Shamans and would be considered an insult to any proper curse.

    In Ferris¡¯s opinion, that fact showed just how twisted they were. If a curse didn¡¯t kill, it was worthless. It was a style that valued only destruction and death.

    ¡°Perha~ps you should try to sense it dissipate once more,¡± Roswaal continued, placing the fingers of his other hand on the back of his wrist.

    Ferris obediently reached out with his senses and focused. He could sense the paralysis, he could sense the strange flavour of mana as Roswaal¡¯s spell took effect, and he could even tell the rough area the spell focused on.

    But he could not tell where the curse was, not even as it began to dissolve and leak traces of mana into the surrounding flesh, washed away by the currents of Roswaal¡¯s internal mana.

    He shook his head and withdrew his hands.

    Roswaal lifted his now free hand and rubbed his chin. ¡°My~, what a conundrum. I apologise, perhaps if I was capable of using healing magic, I would be of mo~re help to you.¡±

    He considered for a moment, then glanced at Ferris¡¯s face.

    ¡°Ah, but you are exhausted. We will lea~ve it here for today.¡±

    Ferris raised his head in protest. ¡°No, I can still¡ª¡±

    ¡°This will take ti~me, and there are still options for learning that do not require the use of mana,¡± Roswaal interjected. ¡°In particular, there are some old texts I¡¯ve brought with me from the capital. I cannot make use of them due to my lack of talent with the healing arts, but they should be no~ trouble for you.¡±

    Ferris wanted to protest more, but he could feel the weariness in his gate. He had been straining himself for hours, and still had nothing to show for it.

    Not to mention, Roswaal was a busy person. He didn''t have time to spend all day tutoring him, even if the lessons were important.

    ¡°...okay. I¡¯ll read them.¡±

    ¡°Do not be put out, Sir Ferris,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°This is not an easy thing to do. Perhaps if the healing method had survived in practice to this day, I would have a better grasp of the steps you need to take. As it is, we are trying to develop a technique almost entirely from scratch. Even for the one known as ¡®Blue¡¯, that is a large ask.¡±

    Ferris nodded weakly, but he wasn¡¯t convinced. He needed to be able to detect curses, and that need would persist even if the threat of the curse user wasn¡¯t hanging over Fourier¡¯s head.

    He had failed the first time Fourier had fallen ill. He had tried everything, and he had failed to even detect the insidious magic on his body. Ferris couldn¡¯t live with himself if he didn¡¯t do everything in his power to correct his weakness.

    The door opened, making almost no sound, such that a normal human would not be able to hear a thing, but for Ferris¡¯s enhanced senses, the squeak of the hinges stood out with finality, marking the end of the lesson.

    He glanced over his shoulder to see the tall, blue-haired butler that was always near Roswaal¡¯s side. In his hands was a small stack of papers.

    ¡°Ah, thank you, Clind,¡± Roswaal said, as the man placed the stack down beside Roswaal.

    He sighed, and shot a wry smile at Felix. ¡°Moving my administrative region has cre~ated more paperwork than I would like. Clind, could you retrie~ve the books we brought from the manor for Sir Felix? And while you¡¯re at it, have Ram ma~ke an extra cup of tea.¡±

    The butler bowed. ¡°The literature on the curse arts? A most peculiar magic. Distasteful.¡±

    He turned towards the door, moving with an almost unnatural grace. Even Ferris¡¯s superior hearing could only pick up the faintest rustle of clothing and footsteps as he moved.

    That fact, coupled with the exhaustion of the day¡¯s practice, was distracting enough that he took a while to register Roswaal¡¯s last words.

    ¡°An extra cup? I don¡¯t need¡ª¡± Ferris began, but Roswaal raised a hand.

    ¡°Don¡¯t feel like you¡¯re impo~sing, she¡¯ll be making tea as usual around this time. It would be rather po~or of me as a teacher if I sent you off without time to rest.¡±

    Ferris paused, then nodded his acquiescence. He didn¡¯t feel as though his body needed the rest, but if Roswaal wanted to have tea with him, then Ferris would oblige.

    It only took a moment for the door to open once more, and a pink-haired maid entered, carrying a tray with her.

    She placed it down on the desk and moved the two tea cups in front of the two of them.

    ¡°Thank you, Ram,¡± Roswaal said, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a sip. ¡°It¡¯s as delicious as always.¡±

    The maid curtsied. ¡°I am happy to hear it.¡±

    Ferris lifted his own cup and took a sip. In his estimation, it wasn¡¯t anything special, the same tea one could find anywhere else. But he had never truly appreciated the beverage as Crusch and Fourier did, so it wasn¡¯t his place to judge.

    ¡°Now then,¡± Roswaal said, as the door closed once more. ¡°While I would lo~ve to simply let you relax and enjoy Ram¡¯s tea, there is still much to discuss.¡±

    Ferris perked his ears up as Roswaal continued, ¡°His Majesty is taking charge of the more munda~ne part of the search for this curse user, which leaves us free to examine more unorthodox leads.¡±

    Ferris tilted his head. ¡°Unorthodox¡­?¡±

    Roswaal nodded, ¡°Indeed. We two do not have the skills that are best placed in searching for information such as the method by which the perpetrator entered the palace, no~r can we uncover the method by which they slipped so close to the royal family. How~ever, there are other avenues of thought which we are uniquely capable of pursuing.¡±

    Ferris hesitated. ¡°You mean the method of uncovering curses?¡± he asked, but Roswaal shook his head.

    ¡°Unco~vering a curse will allow us to prevent more fatalities,¡± he said, closing his blue eye, leaving only the yellow exposed. ¡°But if we find a curse, does that not mean that we have failed once more?¡±

    Ferris blinked as he processed the question. ¡°Failed¡­? Because if we find a curse on someone¡­ Then the perpetrator managed to slip past our defences again?¡±

    Roswaal nodded. ¡°And while we are present to ensu~re His Majesty will not die in that case, curing him a second time will confirm to our adversary that we have a method of removing curses, and that we know of their existence. As of now, the perpetrator see~mingly wants to keep themselves hidden, since they used a curse which so closely mimicked a sickness.¡±

    Roswaal raised his cup, eyes searching Ferris¡¯s face for understanding. ¡°Once they no longer have the possibility of remaining hidden, they may reso~rt to more direct methods. A curse that kills in minutes, a simple assassination utilising weapons or spells¡ªor perhaps they may abandon their mission altoge~ther, and let their trail go cold. If they are sufficiently crafty in covering their retreat, we may never be able to bring them to justice.¡±

    Ferris took a moment to take in Roswaal¡¯s words, and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. ¡°You mean¡­ learning to detect curses is pointless? If I ever do detect them, we¡¯ve already lost?¡±

    Roswaal said nothing, merely taking a sip from his cup.

    Then he placed it down, and said, ¡°Have you ever played Shatranji?¡±

    Ferris blinked at the apparent non-sequitur.

    ¡°I have not,¡± he answered slowly, ¡°but I¡¯ve seen Lady Crusch play it on occasion.¡±

    Roswaal nodded. ¡°That should suffice.¡±

    He flicked his hand, and Ferris heard a rustling from the corner of the room. He glanced around to see a finely-made wooden board, complete with glossy stone pieces, floating through the air towards them.

    It settled down on the desk, off to the side so the space between him and Roswaal was still clear.

    ¡°Think, for a moment, that our situ~ation is much the same as a game. We cannot see the board, nor can we see the pieces available to our opponent, nor do our pieces match up exactly with those of the ga~me, yet, I believe the analogy will work. What do you suppose is the goal of our game?¡±

    Ferris frowned, trying to recall the rules of the archaic game. He wasn¡¯t overly familiar with it, but the rules were simple enough that he was able to identify the majority of them. ¡°To protect the king, and capture the opposing king?¡±

    Roswaal nodded, lifting a white piece from the game board. ¡°Precisely. We must pro~tect our King, Fourier, and capture the perpetrator, the adversary¡¯s king.¡±

    He set the piece in his hand down on the table before Ferris. ¡°Setting aside the se~cond for a moment, what can we say of our first task?¡±

    ¡°We should¡­ put our pieces around our king?¡± Ferris asked, trying to puzzle through what he remembered of the game. ¡°And stop the enemy pieces from getting to him?¡±

    Roswaal nodded, taking a couple more pieces in hand. ¡°A fai~r assessment. Surrounding our king with his knights and soldiers will block the direct attack.¡±

    He placed three pawns in front of the king, and the two Rooks by his side.

    ¡°But un~like the game board, it is not possible to fill every space of the palace with pawns to block approach, nor is it feasible to keep our king safe within our castle walls. There are pieces that can still get to him, just as they did before.¡±

    He placed a black Knight outside the formation, and it took Ferris a second to realise its odd placement and what a Knight could do. The black Knight had the King in check, and the pawns and Rooks had no way to get rid of it in order to save him.

    ¡°We can¡¯t defend him against all attacks,¡± Ferris said. ¡°This is the curse user?¡±

    Roswaal inclined his head slowly. ¡°A troublesome opponent indee~d, but perhaps it would be better to think of this piece as the curse itself. After all, there is no wa~y to block it, and it must be removed before it can take our King¡¯s life. For that role¡­ let¡¯s see¡­¡±

    His fingers danced over the remaining pieces, then he plucked out a Bishop, and with a flickering of his fingers, he removed the knight and swapped it with the new piece. ¡°This would be me. I myself am capable of removing the curse and protecting our King. How~ever, as of the present moment, our pieces only include a single piece capable of removing them. I am thus forced to remain in the King¡¯s presence, for the sake of protecting him. Even if my talents were better placed elsewhere on the board, they cannot be utilised while a risk to our king remains.¡±

    He twirled his fingers, and the other white Bishop appeared on the table, as if by magic. ¡°Which is where you~ come in.¡±

    Ferris blinked. ¡°But I can¡¯t detect curses at the moment. Wouldn¡¯t I be a pawn?¡±

    Roswaal smiled. ¡°That would sell your o~wn remarkable talents short. True, you are not cu~rrently in a position to protect the King, but that is something easily fixed,¡± he said, sliding the new piece so it could reach the other Bishop¡¯s location. ¡°It¡¯s quite different from the monumental task of moving a pawn to the very edge of the board.¡±

    He withdrew his hand, and stared at Ferris with his singular yellow eye, almost seeming to peer into his soul.

    ¡°That is the true pu~rpose of your training. With a second piece capable of protecting His Majesty, we may both move more freely, and unco~ver the hidden pieces our advisory has strewn across the board. Then, we may capture and dispose of those pieces that only we can affect, such as the curses, or whatever o~ther unusual techniques the enemy puts into play against us.¡±

    With a wave of his hand, Roswaal deposited several more black pieces onto the table: a Rook, a Bishop, several pawns, and the King.

    ¡°We do~n¡¯t know where they are hiding, nor how many there are,¡± he stated, ¡°but they most assu~redly are there.¡±

    Ferris felt his mouth going dry and dark images assault him.

    He saw Fourier¡¯s pained face and laboured breath, as even breathing became a struggle.

    Shaking his head, he forced back the images that were always lurking close before locking eyes with Roswaal. ¡°You mean¡­ There¡¯s more than one enemy? Not just the curse user?¡±

    Roswaal shrugged. ¡°That remains to be seen. It seems im~possible that one single person could infiltrate the palace and come into contact with every member of the royal family, so perhaps they didn¡¯t act alone. Several pieces working to~gether could have performed the same steps. Not to mention, there are those who seek to benefit from the current situation, and will make moves that benefit our adversaries. There is little difference between an oppo~rtunistic noble and one who works for our enemy.¡±

    Ferris narrowed his own eyes, remembering the scheming nobles that he had met in the past. He had dismissed them mentally, as even when Fourier was just a Prince, they had always conceded to him easily. But his new position meant that Fourier needed to take them seriously rather than rely on his status as a cudgel.

    Roswaal glanced at the pieces remaining on the Shatranji board, then shrugged his shoulders. ¡°I could make more comparisons, as I be~lieve the position of Queen has already been assigned, but this will do for the time being. Suffice to say, the enemy¡¯s first move will arrive soon, and we should get into position ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Soon?¡± Ferris asked, looking up and meeting the man¡¯s eyes. Did Roswaal know something he didn¡¯t?

    ¡°The state funeral,¡± Roswaal explained. ¡°Fourier will be out of the pa~lace for the first time since his recovery, and will be exposed to foreign amba~ssadors, as well as members of the lesser nobility, and even some members of the general public. Our enemy could not wish for a better opportunity to finish what they sta~rted, or at the very least, begin manoeuvring for another attempt.¡±

    Ferris started to pale, the buried memories consuming him.

    Fourier¡¯s heart had stopped beating on its own again, but Ferris¡¯s magic forced it to restart. The heartbeat stabilised, but Ferris could feel how much harder it had been that time. Fourier would be beyond him soon.

    It wasn¡¯t until he felt an arm pressing against his own that he came back to reality. Roswaal withdrew his hand without a word and simply examined him quietly.

    ¡°Do not worry,¡± he said softly, a certainty in his tone that Ferris found reassuring. ¡°We will be there. This time, our enemy¡¯s machinations will not go unopposed.¡±

    <hr>

    Tap, tap, tap.

    The sound of footsteps echoed through the empty hallways, as Crusch Karsten strode through the halls, flanked by two of her aides.

    Her face was a mask of calm, but internally, her emotions were in turmoil. Rage and relief fought over her mind, a strange mixture she never thought she would have experienced.

    Fourier was alive.

    And yet, Fourier almost died, to the magic of some foul assassin. no less.

    So many questions were boiling in her mind.

    Why would someone do such a thing?

    How did they get close enough to the Royal Family to use the magic?

    And most importantly¡­

    Would they be able to do it again?

    She kept her face neutral to the best of her ability, but even the act of hiding it intensified the anger burning in her heart. Luckily, the two officials with her had been requisitioned from the palace staff, and thus, didn¡¯t know her well enough to tell just how abnormally furious she was.

    ¡°The personnel that you requested from your father are already half-way here, Lady Crusch,¡± the one on her right said, flipping through some pages on his clipboard. If he was nervous about being suddenly co-opted to work for a Duchess, he showed no sign of it.

    ¡°It will take a few more days before they arrive, but I¡¯ve already ordered that they meet you as soon as they arrive.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Crusch responded. ¡°I have already spoken to my father, and he is preparing to depart for the capital soon as well.¡±

    ¡°Lady Crusch¡­¡± he said nervously. ¡°Is it wise for both you, and Lord Meckart to allow the Karsten Duchy to be run by itself, you¡¯ve already been away from the Duchy for months now?¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t be a problem, my father assured me that the Duchy is currently doing well,¡± Crusch answered. ¡°Both of us have conversing mirrors that allow us to give our commands even from afar, and to get updates on the events unfolding. Should an urgent matter happen we will naturally head back to our estate. But on that note, have any of the other Karsten vassals responded to the missives we¡¯ve sent?¡±

    This time it was the other aide who spoke up.

    ¡°We¡¯re still waiting on carrier birds for the last of them,¡± she said. ¡°But all that¡¯s left is the messages for the regional nobility. We should have them sent out in a few days.¡±

    Crusch nodded. Her task was going to require a great deal of manpower, and she did not entirely trust the officials residing in the capital. Therefore, she would have to bring in some of her aides from the Duchy. Eventually, she¡¯d also summon some of the Karsten military to the capital to help supplement her investigations, but they would take time to mobilise.

    Events had rapidly unfolded after Roswaal cured Fourier. Rumours and gossip abounded, and the atmosphere of the capital was in turmoil.

    But that wasn¡¯t Crusch¡¯s concern. Even though she was the official head of the Karsten Duchy, her father held much stronger connections to the other heads of the noble families, and would prove a strong ally to Fourier. A part of her regretted that they had to call her father out of his retirement, but she knew it was the best course of action with her new duties.

    As the Captain of Public Safety, she had many new responsibilities, but in return it gave her the authority to deal with the hidden task she¡¯d been assigned. She would find the culprits behind the curse, who had robbed Lugunica of Fourier¡¯s family and who had tried to kill Fourier.

    Seeing the man she had sworn personal fealty to laid low by something as vile as a curse had brought with it a great amount of anger. But just that wasn¡¯t able to explain the depth of her rage. She had underestimated how much Fourier being one of her closest and most precious friends would amplify it. Her blood had been boiling and it took all her mental strength to try to attack this problem rationally.

    Even leaving Fourier¡¯s protection to Julius had been difficult; it had been a great relief to her knowing that Ferris had been by his side throughout most of the curse, even if she wished that Ferris had taken better care of himself.

    She¡¯d been tempted to stay by his side herself, something which puzzled her a bit. Julius was a fine knight, and his ability to slow down any other curses would be invaluable.

    Her Divine Protection should have allowed herself to place her full confidence in Julius, but that was also where a problem resided.

    Those who had access to all members of the royal family were few and far between, and while she¡¯d never gone out of her way to examine them, such things tended to stand out to her.

    Had the culprits somehow figured out a way to hide from even her Protection?

    If so, could even someone as impeccable as Julius be fully trusted anymore?

    Crusch took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. For the moment she¡¯d have to assume that her Divine Protection was still reliable and that she should be using it to find any clues that remained.

    ¡°Do you have anything else to report?¡± she asked, momentarily pulling her eyes away from the corridor in front of her to glance back at the aides.

    ¡°Ah, yes. Some civil officials from the city guard have asked to meet with you. There hasn¡¯t been a Captain of Public Safety in a few months, and the office had been neglected even before that, considering¡­¡±

    The man trailed off, seemingly not wanting to bring up how the illness had rendered the former Captain bedridden for the month before his death. It had belonged to the Crown Prince himself, Zabinel Lugunica, Fourier¡¯s eldest brother.

    Crusch had met him, but only on rare occasions, as two members of the upper nobility. She mourned him only as a member of the kingdom¡¯s lost royalty.

    But he had been Fourier¡¯s brother. Even thinking of him had brought tears to the prince¡¯s eyes.

    It was fortunate that she was facing away from the aides, so that they could not see the fury that rose on her expression.

    ¡°They want to work out how you intend to proceed,¡± her aide finished, drawing Crusch¡¯s thoughts back to the present.

    Crusch nodded. ¡°Find them a spot in my calendar. Give it at least two hours, I¡¯d like to get their full thoughts on the current state of the city.¡±

    The aide nodded. ¡°In that case, I believe that¡¯s everything, Lady Karsten.¡±

    ¡°Very well. You may go. I¡¯ll return to the office after I finish checking this wing.¡±

    The two aides gave a slight bow of their heads, and then returned back the way they had come.

    Crusch turned her eyes back to the corridor.

    They knew frightfully little as to how the assassin had managed to come into contact with the royal family. All kinds of possibilities had been raised about their identity, ranging from a high-ranked noble of the country, to a group of civil officials.

    However, it was also possible that the curse had not been placed by betrayal, and had instead come from someone who had infiltrated the palace.

    Which led Crusch to her current location, patrolling the halls, searching every nook and cranny of the palace¡¯s grounds.

    Of course, she did not expect to discover some hidden clue to how the assassin got in. She was not naive enough to think one person would be able to do that when dozens of knights had failed.

    No, she had given herself another mission.

    Her eyes strained as she leaned hard into the power of her Divine Protection. While the name ¡°Wind Indication¡± was in some ways metaphorical, given that she could see into the emotional state of all people, it was also quite literal. It allowed her to see that which could not usually be seen; the flow of wind, and the air itself.

    As she walked through the hallways, her eyes traced the shapes she saw, the streams and rivers in midair, watching them as they moved, tracking every point in the hallway.

    It was always difficult to describe what she saw with her ability. Indeed, it wasn¡¯t until she was seven years of age that she learned not everyone could see the things she saw. Not the swirling flows that suffused the world, nor the emotions swirling through each other¡¯s minds. It certainly explained why people chose to lie. She had never properly learned how to do so, having not seen the point in her early years.

    As she moved further through the hallway, she spotted a stronger air current coming from one of the doors.

    It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough that Crusch opened the door, and moved inside, tracking the flow to its source.

    Which turned out to be a window, left ever so slightly open.

    She strode over to it, and shut it tightly, then glanced around at the remainder of the room.

    It was a decently sized room, with a couch on either side of a small table. It looked somewhat like a room dedicated to negotiations, but since Crusch couldn¡¯t remember what part of the palace she was in, it was impossible to glean the room¡¯s purpose.

    It didn¡¯t matter anyway.

    She watched the flows of air in the room to make sure there were no other drafts, then when she was satisfied, she left, closing the door behind her, and forgetting all about the room, just as she had done a dozen times by this stage.

    Then she was walking through the hallways, watching the wind once more.

    The palace was old.

    That was, of course, an understatement. It had been ancient when Farsale first made a contract with the Divine Dragon.

    Over all that time, escape tunnels, hidden passages, and the like had been made, abandoned, and forgotten, then rediscovered again countless times. Even the royal family didn¡¯t believe they had a complete record of every possible entrance to the palace. At this point, it was almost believed impossible to find every single one of them.

    But Crusch couldn¡¯t accept that. She couldn¡¯t do much at the moment, but her Divine Protection made her uniquely capable at this particular task.

    She had already catalogued one previously unknown passage, having spotted the tiniest flow of wind emanating from behind a painting on one of the upper floors.

    It would take some time, but when she was finished, there wouldn¡¯t be a single way into the palace that the kingdom wasn¡¯t aware of.

    In all, it was probably only of minor help, doing more to set Crusch¡¯s mind at ease than to actually prevent an assassination attempt. But who knew? Perhaps one day her cataloguing would prove useful.

 The Royal Funeral

    The clouds rumbled overhead, rain drizzling down on those gathered beneath the dark sky. Fourier had little doubt that many of the more religious would believe that it was the heavens weeping over the deaths of his family. Sadly, like many things in life, the truth was less glamorous. They had scheduled the date of the funeral to lie on such a day, in order to make the state address have more impact.

    Fourier¡¯s thoughts were invaded by the image of a cheerful sunny day, the kind that his eldest brother Zabinel would use as an excuse to nap and lounge in the sunshine. Zabinel had always been conscious of his position as both Crown Prince, and Captain of Public Safety, which had cursed him with the responsibility of appearing strong. But fine weather had been one of the things he most fiercely cherished, and had brought out a side of him Fourier had treasured.

    The deluge of memories brightened his mood, though he was careful to keep his face neutral. Such an expression was hardly appropriate at his family''s funeral, and he was all too aware of how mercurial his feelings had been lately. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of emotions, ever since he was saved from what he thought was certain death.

    In the past he¡¯d been told about how open he was, for he had allowed himself to publicly shed tears and had laughed often. He¡¯d always found it easy to cheer himself up, but had suspected that after his family''s death had sunk in that such a trait would fade.

    Instead he¡¯d found his emotions swinging wildly out of control. At times he was so thankful that he had survived it was all he could do to refrain from laughing aloud, and at other times he wanted to curl up and weep his heart out.

    But he could not afford to display either extreme so openly. Not today, not in the presence of so many.

    He stood on a stone podium looking out over those in attendance for the funeral.

    As was tradition, the funeral was being held in the Field of Mourning, the little space of greenery that stood before the Royal Mausoleum, the fated resting place of all of Lugunica¡¯s royalty.

    A thin stone pavement ran through the field, connecting the mausoleum to a small temple. That temple was not used for worship. It was only ever used on days of great import.

    Many stelae dotted the field, each of the chest-high stone slabs carved with a depiction of one of the kings or other notable member of the royal family, as well as their name and any titles they held. In a way, they could be said to be the kings¡¯ gravestones.

    The mausoleum was a small building, and not one that had been decorated to any major degree. When they were building the palace, the ancient progenitors of the royal line decided they did not want a large monument to their own deaths, and used the building merely as an entrance to a series of catacombs.

    The stone slab on which Fourier now stood had also been laid down by those first royals, set by the edge of the field. Anyone who looked toward the king as he addressed his subjects would see the Royal Palace towering over his head, a symbol of enduring strength even in times of great loss.

    Fourier thought the attempt was a struggle in vain. A building, no matter how impressive, could never make up for the beloved rulers of a nation. And an empty palace was nothing more than a symbol of decline.

    He tried to ignore the overbearing structure to his back, and focused on a much more present symbol of strength. Several knights had joined him on the podium, wearing their formal uniforms and standing tall.

    By tradition, they should not have been by his side, and should have instead been standing around the slab. The stone itself was supposed to be reserved for his family, but that family no longer existed. It was better to break tradition than to emphasise just how close Lugunica had come to losing their entire royal line.

    Having the knights beside him served far better as a symbol of safety and protection. Julius to his right, in the hopes that showing off the Finest Knight¡¯s position as his personal guard, would help to establish that he was protected.

    Marcos Gildark, Captain of the Royal Knights, was the only person on the platform wearing armour, and for good reason. The man looked like someone from out of a storybook, a knight that would remain stalwart in the face of the worst opposition.

    Fourier couldn¡¯t help but be conscious of Ferris. Though his friend was standing behind him, outside of Fourier¡¯s line of sight, he could still hear the way the knight shifted his feet uneasily.

    Felix Argyle had the title of ¡®Blue¡¯, and was the Kingdom¡¯s finest healer. If any were to take the credit for Fourier¡¯s recovery, it would be him. He was one of Fourier¡¯s closest friends, and perhaps most importantly of all, a Demi-Human. Already Fourier could see several people silently throwing their disdainful looks at his friend.

    But many knew him by his reputation, and for every look of disgust, there were two more with gratitude in their eyes.

    Fourier did not expect to solve the discrimination against Demi-humans with only a few moves. But it was a start.

    And not one that would be particularly hard on Ferris, as there was another man in their midst, one who drew the gazes of the people to an extent rivalling Fourier himself.

    Reinhard van Astrea, the Sword Saint himself, was someone the people loved as much as they loved the royal line. He was famous around the world for his strength, and countless stories of his acts of heroism circulated through the realm. No one could serve as a better reassurance than him.

    Fourier had not had the chance to talk to Reinhard since the curse had been broken. With most of the Royal Family gone, morale had fallen to the lowest Fourier could remember, and the Sword Saint had been dispatched on several missions to try and rectify it. Those generally consisted of bandit subjugations on the main roads, or clearing out mabeast infestations near the populated regions.

    There was only so much that he could do, but Reinhard threw himself into it with gusto.

    Fourier knew the knight must have been feeling terrible for his failure to reach the Pleiades Watchtower and contact the sage, but Reinhard didn¡¯t let it show on his face. He never did.

    With his loyal knights at his back, Fourier could face the crowd with confidence.

    Many were members of the nobility, but Fourier could easily distinguish some members of the Church of the Divine Dragon, in their formal robes, and even some members of the general public.

    Fourier could see the sadness on everyone¡¯s faces. Many of them were even looking at Fourier with concern, as if afraid that he too would soon depart from the world.

    It was painful.

    Fourier knew that his family would have preferred a happier atmosphere for such a grim occasion, that they would have wanted the people to rejoice that one had lived, but with the church¡¯s temporary prominence it would be best to play it safe.

    ¡°We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of my father, Randohal Lugunica, the forty-first king of Lugunica,¡± Fourier began, holding his voice steady so it wouldn¡¯t tremble or crack with grief.

    ¡°My father and many in the Royal Family enjoyed an open relationship with our people and tried to take the time to visit them whenever possible. So when we all had to enter isolation several months ago, many found it suspicious,¡± Fourier continued, focusing on the sound of Ferris¡¯s breathing, his eyes meeting Crusch¡¯s, their mere presence granting him strength.

    ¡°Some may ask why we felt the need to keep it a secret, and it is because we didn¡¯t know just how infectious such a disease could be. I believe it is to the credit of our subjects that they decided to have faith in us rather than demanding answers.¡±

    Fourier found his eyes drifting skywards as rain poured on his face, at least with the need for rain, the Funeral had been pushed back a few days allowing him to regain more of his strength. His mind felt more clear than it had in months, which combined with his grief made it so that moments felt stretched.

    ¡°The disease that took my family spread rapidly, and it wasn¡¯t long until every member was infected. Even I caught it. It was only thanks to the tireless work of our court healers that I stand before you today.¡±

    Fourier swallowed as he began to tell his lies. The next part would hopefully help asway any doubts the culprit had.

    ¡°The largest reason I stand before you today was my dear friend and Royal Knight, Felix Argyle. While he was unable to defeat my illness alone, he was able to help me preserve my strength and survive. After even my father perished, all our healers were able to work together and focus on me, and with their help, I was able to survive and defeat the illness.¡±

    The desire to have Ferris be the one recognized was his own, and his advisors had questioned the wisdom of drawing attention to Ferris when he was being trained to break curses. Was it perhaps possible that the perpetrator would seek to draw Ferris away from Fourier before acting if his role in the healing was played up?

    The additional attention drawn to Ferris would also make his meetings with Roswaal more difficult to keep under wraps.

    However, there were multiple reasons Fourier had decided to go through with it. Ferris was one of the few Demi-Humans who had reached as high a position as Royal Knight, and Fourier thought it would help to highlight such a role, especially going forward.

    In addition, while it was possible that the perpetrator would view Ferris as an obstacle, Fourier thought it was likely that they would still strike at him if he ventured outside the safety of the palace, and the palace¡¯s healers.

    By playing up Ferris, it became more plausible that he might venture away from the capital with him by his side, along with his personal knight. It was a move that would without a doubt attract another attempt on his life¡ªa move that they would have to consider making if the perpetrator didn¡¯t attack earlier. They didn¡¯t know how the curse user got into the palace, but they might have noticed the tightened security of the palace, and chosen to bide their time.

    Well, it wasn¡¯t a decision they needed to make yet. It would only be feasible after Ferris had mastered breaking curses. Fourier had faith that his friend would be able to master the skill quickly, but it would be best if he had plenty of time to practice with it before they made such a risky play.

    In the wake of his announcement, he could see more eyes being drawn to Ferris, who bore the stares with a smile.

    Too many gazes remained resentful, their eyes being drawn to Ferris¡¯s bristling cat ears.

    However, Fourier could also see that for some, disdain was replaced with respect. Respect for the young man who had helped save their king, and prevented the Royal Line from being extinguished.

    ¡°I am now the last member of the Royal Line,¡± Fourier continued, and Church officials in black robes began to move, each group of four carrying a finely crafted black coffin on their shoulders. The first was open, revealing Fourier¡¯s father, King Randohal, his deathly pallor erased by makeup and magic, leaving him looking as if he were simply in a calm slumber.

    Fourier remembered the times when he would launch himself at his father¡¯s sleeping form, and couldn¡¯t help but wish that the sleep of death could be broken as easily as his father¡¯s slumber back then, and that he could go back to that simpler time.

    ¡°However, in times of trouble, we look to the past for guidance,¡± Fourier continued, not allowing his eyes to linger on his father¡¯s body. ¡°A few centuries ago, Lionel Lugunica, the thirty-seventh King, was faced with a similar issue. For he too was not the principal heir, and was faced with a Royal Family that had but a few members left.¡±

    Fourier could see some whispering from the crowd as they looked to the six coffins behind his father¡¯s, for unlike the former King¡¯s, their coffins had the lids firmly in place.

    Perhaps that detail would lead to speculation that there were other survivors that Fourier was covering up.

    If only that were so.

    No, those six were covered to disguise the two that had been desecrated. Fourier had not seen the state his brothers had been reduced to, nor did he want to. He did not think he¡¯d be able to forgive Roswaal if he had, despite the miracle the Court Mage had worked.

    ¡°Yet he overcame such issues despite inheriting at an age barely older than I am now,¡± Fourier went on, refusing to allow himself to think too much on it. ¡°And he served our Kingdom for over seventy years. In that time Lugunica flourished and became a stronger nation.¡±

    Randohal¡¯s casket reached the mausoleum, and four church officials in white robes heaved the doors open, the stone grinding as it shifted to reveal the darkness within.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°I pledge now that I too will make Lugunica stronger and that I will not allow the Royal Family to die out!¡± Fourier pledged as one by one, his family entered that darkness, never to return.

    Fourier turned to face the tomb, and bowed his head to them, letting his hair shade his eyes, grateful that the rain helped wash away the tears that slipped past.

    <hr>

    As the ceremony came to a close, the stifling air of formality began to ease up. Ferris still noticed a large number of eyes drifting to him, but now that he wasn¡¯t standing up on the platform, he could hide amongst the crowd, which minimised the number that could actually make him out.

    Of course, it didn¡¯t help all that much, considering the company he was keeping.

    Reinhard was rather distinctive, with his blazing red hair shifting slightly in the breeze and his general aura of exceptionalism.

    He and Ferris were greeting and thanking those who had attended the funeral, but were¡ªto put it unkindly¡ªnot worth Fourier¡¯s time to talk to. They were lesser nobility, commoners who had no great influence, or civil officials of minor branches of the government.

    But while they didn¡¯t have the chance to talk to Fourier, not a single one seemed to care, considering that they got to exchange greetings with the Sword Saint himself. Most didn¡¯t even mind when they were obliged to shake hands with Ferris too.

    Some of them were even enthusiastic about it, sincerely thanking Ferris for his work in healing Fourier, clutching his hand in theirs. In one case, there was even tears.

    ¡°It¡¯s so creepy,¡± Ferris whispered to Reinhard. ¡°Ferri prefers the way the knights are. Can¡¯t they have begrudging respect? Not¡­ this.¡±

    Reinhard smiled. ¡°Yes, perhaps that would be more comfortable for you. But please bear with it. We don¡¯t have anyone else capable of the things that you are.¡±

    Ferris turned away at the praise. It was true that no one in the kingdom had the level of skill with Water Magic that Ferris possessed, thanks to his Divine Protection of Water.

    His skill was such that he could surreptitiously check the condition of anyone he touched, with such subtlety that only a master of mana would be able to notice his intrusion. He had done so with every guest they had met over the course of the day.

    That was the real reason both Reinhard and Ferris had been assigned to the job. If Ferris found anyone suspicious, he would need only say the word, and Reinhard would apprehend the target.

    ¡°But nothing came of it, in the end,¡± Ferris muttered. ¡°Everyone was normal. Nyothing really stuck out about any of them.¡±

    ¡°I too was unable to detect anything,¡± Reinhard said.

    Coming from him, it meant that none of his myriad Divine Protections had noticed any ill-intent from the attendees.

    ¡°Thus, it seems likely that our adversary chose to avoid this event. So don¡¯t blame yourself. You can hardly find something that doesn¡¯t exist.¡±

    Ferris sighed, but didn¡¯t disagree. Some part of him had held onto the vain hope that they would catch the assassin at the event, and prevent any further deaths. But the forces that wanted to end the royal line were crafty, and Ferris had begun to agree with Reinhard. They wouldn¡¯t find anything among the guests.

    He sighed again. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right.¡±

    Ferris couldn¡¯t understand Reinhard sometimes. He knew for a fact that the Sword Saint had taken his inability to help the Royal Family hard, but unlike him, the man was able to easily suppress his emotions and keep going.

    It made him feel small and petty, but after his repeated failures in learning about curses from Roswaal, a part of him had hoped that Reinhard would fail in other tasks as well.

    Reinhard and Julius were his only other friends among the Royal Knights of Lugunica, and he didn¡¯t want to see Julius right now. He should be happy that Fourier would be protected by someone he knew was capable and trustworthy, but all it did was make him worry about his own place by Fourier¡¯s side.

    He couldn¡¯t even bring himself to hope something would go wrong, for Julius was protecting what was most precious to him and Crusch.

    ¡°Reinhard, hypothetically if you kept failing at a task again and again, what would you do?¡±

    Reinhard glanced at him, mildly confused, but still smiling. ¡°I would do my best. But if that wasn¡¯t enough, I would have to rethink my options, as what happened when I tried to reach the Pleiades Watchtower.¡±

    Ferris flinched. He hadn¡¯t expected Reinhard to bring that up. But then, it was a rather insensitive question. When had Reinhard ever failed, except for that?

    ¡°Fourier doesn¡¯t blame you,¡± he said quickly. ¡°It was a stretch anyway. We don¡¯t know if the Sage would have even been able to help.¡±

    Reinhard shrugged. ¡°It is impossible to say. Though my failure did not cost us the entire Royal Family, had I managed to reach the tower, the Sage may have been able to put us on the right path sooner. We might not have lost a single person.¡±

    Ferris sank down, wracked by guilt. He hadn¡¯t meant to bring up those types of thoughts, he had only wanted advice about¡­

    ¡°But that is in the past,¡± Reinhard continued. ¡°The problem you face is currently more important. Unfortunately, I am unable to be of much assistance in the particulars. Magic is something that is beyond me. However, if you want my honest advice, I believe all you can do is practice. Margrave Mathers has faith that you will be able to learn the technique soon, and if anyone can be relied upon to judge your skill, it would be him.¡±

    Ferris had to admit, that was a good point. He had been failing every attempt, but Roswaal had not been perturbed.

    ¡°These things take ti~me.¡±

    Those were the words the Court Mage had said every time Ferris doubted his abilities, every time he worried that he would be unable to learn anything.

    Perhaps he was right, and Ferris would learn what he needed before anything further befell Fourier.

    But he was still worried.

    <hr>

    Fourier walked around the funeral, nodding at many of the faces he recognized. Now that the official service was over, the majority of the crowd had departed. If he was being entirely honest with himself, he wished that he could join them.

    He hadn¡¯t expected this funeral to mean so much to him. He¡¯d had a small ceremony with Ferris and Crusch the day before where he had cried his eyes out, as he had known from the beginning that this funeral couldn¡¯t be solely about his family.

    Yet in the end, he¡¯d been wrong, because when he had been making his speeches to his people, his eyes had been drawn not to the schemers he could sense were in attendance, but to the many people who had come solely out of respect for the Royal Family.

    It made him feel even dirtier for having to lie to them, and even going around socialising felt like it was rubbing salt in his wounds.

    The dreary weather above felt as if it fit his inner mood, and it was only the knowledge that he¡¯d soon be talking to ambassadors that forced him to accept Julius¡¯s offer. Together the two of them stayed perfectly dry, the man¡¯s spirits deflecting the rain as they walked.

    Despite his dark mood though, he knew that it wasn¡¯t solely his appearance that he needed to manage, with how important these negotiations were, so with one final glance at Crusch to fortify his mood, he moved towards them with a smile crossing his lips.

    At a glance, he could see that the Kararagi representative, a tall and spindly man, was trying to charm the other two nations'' dignitaries. Gusteko¡¯s, a pot-bellied man a little shorter than Fourier, was nodding politely, but the Vollachian didn¡¯t even bother to feign interest.

    As Fourier grew closer he noticed to his surprise that he recognized one of the three on sight. The royal family had acquired many paintings of foreign nobles and dignitaries so that they would know the faces of their potential enemies.

    Some were difficult to obtain, but the man serving as ambassador was so famous that Lugunica had managed to procure several different depictions of him.

    The Vollachian ambassador, Goz Raflon, stood tall and imposing. He had not donned the distinctive golden armour he was known for, but even in formal clothing, he still looked ready for battle. And how could he not? He had the build of a warrior, and his auburn hair seemed to blaze despite the dreariness of the day.

    He was the fifth rank of Vollachia¡¯s Divine Generals, and had earned the moniker of ¡°Lion Knight¡±. Fourier couldn¡¯t help but feel that there was a significance to that. Before the advent of the contract with the Divine Dragon, Lugunica was known as the Lion Kingdom, ruled by its Lion Kings.

    But what the Emperor was implying with this assignment, Fourier couldn¡¯t say. He had never met the man in person, and relied only on second-hand or third-hand accounts of him. The only thing he could say for certain was that the man was crafty, and there were hidden meanings in everything he did.

    Was it an indication of respect? Or a warning, that without the contract, Lugunica would become a puppet of the Empire, just as the Lion Knight was?

    For that reason, Fourier kept an eye on Goz as he approached.

    While not the most powerful of the Nine Divine Generals, he was deeply involved in the imperial army, credited with giving it shape. A warrior was an odd choice for an ambassador to a funeral, and Fourier felt it would be best to keep his guard up.

    He stepped right up to them, and all three directed their attention towards him and Julius.

    ¡°It¡¯s an honour to meet you, Your Majesty,¡± the Kararagian ambassador said, shifting to address Fourier without losing a moment. ¡°My name is Heitor Coelho, and on behalf of all of Kararagi, let me offer you our deepest sympathies for the passing of a man as grand as your father. Kararagi mourns with you, for your father was beloved by all.¡±

    Heitor¡¯s voice was perfectly sombre, fitting the atmosphere of a funeral.

    ¡°Although between you and me,¡± he continued, a small smile touching his lips, ¡°I have no doubt that you will soon prove yourself as capable as your father was.¡±

    To the man¡¯s credit, Fourier couldn¡¯t detect a single falsehood, and his smile looked warm and inviting.

    Fourier smiled in turn, and made a mental note to never trust anything Heitor said until he had Crusch listen in first. Something about the man felt off, and Fourier trusted his intuition.

    A quiet chuckle broke his train of thought, and all four of them turned to see Goz muffling a laugh.

    ¡°Pardon me, Your Highness,¡± he said, without the slightest trace of reverence in his tone. ¡°A man such as myself is unused to interacting in such a refined manner.¡±

    Fourier observed the reactions of the two beside him, Heitor seemed stunned by the disrespect and even Gusteko¡¯s representative looked surprised. To so blatantly refuse to acknowledge him as King, even when he was the last remaining royal family, would surprise many.

    Fourier could practically feel Julius tensing beside him, but he couldn¡¯t turn away from the man in order to warn him. He heard a soft chink of metal, likely Julius had placed one hand on his sword, but didn¡¯t seem like he was at risk of drawing it. No, of course, he wouldn¡¯t. To threaten an ambassador would be a major breach of conduct..

    Still, Fourier curled his fingers behind his back, singling to remain calm. He didn¡¯t know all the hand gestures the knights used to communicate, but he knew enough to get his intentions across.

    Given that Julius did not start berating the Divine General, the message must have gotten across.

    Fourier supposed he should feel angry or slighted himself, but he hadn¡¯t truly internalised his father¡¯s title yet. Part of him even wished that he could go by his old title, at least for a while longer.

    So it was with a vague sense of amusement that he arched an eyebrow at Goz, smile not fading.

    ¡°Goz Raflon, there is no need to take yourself so lightly,¡± he said. ¡°A man with a rank of Divine General has undoubtedly interacted with your own Emperor, and if your behaviour is sufficient for him, I doubt I will be troubled by it.¡±

    ¡°Although,¡± he continued, hiding the slyness that threatened to infect his smile, ¡°I can understand being overwhelmed at meeting one such as myself. There are few who can rival the grandeur of the kingdom.¡±

    Fourier was honestly relieved when he saw anger fill Goz¡¯s eyes at the indirect insult. It seemed the rumours were true. The fifth Divine General was fiercely loyal to the Emperor, to the extent that he could not abide by the smallest insult against him.

    After Heitor, it felt refreshing to see someone so direct.

    ¡°I¡¯m honoured that you recognize me, Your Highness,¡± Goz bit out, clearly restraining his anger. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have thought that Lugunica would have time to observe Vollachia when all your royalty was ill.¡±

    ¡°Naturally, Lugunica takes care to keep up to date on the movements of our neighbours. I was receiving information even while I myself was ill, after all.¡±

    The lie came out easily, and Goz seemed to buy it.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised that Vincent was able to spare a man of your talents for a job such as this,¡± Fourier continued. ¡°Especially since from what you¡¯ve said, it isn¡¯t something you have experience with.¡±

    Fourier could tell that Goz didn¡¯t appreciate the implication that he was equal to Vincent, but he could also see as Goz focused and his face hardened. The man might be hot-headed, but this was still a man who had led armies in defence of his emperor.

    Fourier thought it likely that the Emperor had ordered the man not to cause a scene at the funeral. Perhaps he had even been told to expect some degree of insults thrown about.

    ¡°Forgive me, Your Highness,¡± Goz said, ¡°but I do not believe that you have the right to address my Emperor in such a way yet. After all, you refuse to even wear Lugunica¡¯s crown.¡±

    Fourier allowed a few moments to pass in silence, making his disapproval at the disrespect clear, before responding. ¡°I haven¡¯t been formally recognized yet, and to take the crown without it would be disrespectful,¡±

    ¡°Is it?¡± Goz asked, completely ignoring the subtle warning Fourier had given, a mocking smile appearing on his face. ¡°Or perhaps the real reason is that you doubt your longevity as King. I was informed that you contracted the same illness as your family did, and barely managed to beat it back. Would it be so surprising for the disease to rebound and finish you off?¡±

    This time, Fourier could hear Julius stiffen beside him, and he heard the rattle as the knight¡¯s hand tightened around his blade.

    Fourier was still taken back by the directness of the question, and it took him a moment to signal with his hand. A moment that took too long. It appeared Julius did not see him. The knight stepped forward, his posture still appearing relaxed, but Fourier knew the man well enough to tell he was as tense as a drawn bowstring.

    He raised his yellow eyes to meet Goz¡¯s, and said, ¡°The Lugunica line has ruled over this country for thousands of years, and our Healers would never allow such a thing. Not after we¡¯ve studied and defeated the disease once.¡±

    Julius¡¯s impromptu answer, while unnerving, had given Fourier time to formulate a response, so it was with a degree of gratitude that he spoke up.

    ¡°Believe me when I say Lugunica has long memories,¡± he said, taking control of the conversation again, ¡°and in the unlikely event I perish, it won¡¯t forget those who respected it.¡±

    He paused and gave a nod to Julius.

    ¡°Nor will it forget those that did not.¡±

    ¡°A pretty speech,¡± Goz said, seeming far more amused now that he had the upper hand. ¡°However, Vollachia has also been around for thousands of years, and I think that our own records must be better than your own. After all, it was Farsale Lugunica that established your contract with the Dragon, correct?¡± he asked. ¡°Tell me, what would happen to such a contract, if the recipients perished, Spirit Knight?¡±

    Julius glared back at the Divine General but before he could answer, Fourier spoke impulsively.

    ¡°Then my friends and loyal subjects would carry on without me, and continue to maintain Lugunica¡¯s greatness.¡±

    Both Julius and Goz stared at him, and for a moment Fourier doubted his answer.

    If he died then they all knew that the current contract with the Dragon would end, and it was anybody¡¯s guess if a new one could be formed. It would be a disaster that would weaken Lugunica and could easily spell a far more serious war with Vollachia, at a level unseen in centuries.

    Logically they did still have a backup option in the form of their Sword Saint Reinhard, who was far beyond any other Sword Saint in history. But that wasn¡¯t where he turned for his answer, it was his intuition that told him that even without him Lugunica would find a way to flourish.

    So it was with a calm heart that he turned towards Goz and smiled.

    ¡°Contracts can be reformed, after all, and our people would be more than up to the task of handling any issues in the meantime.¡±

    Turning towards the Gusteko representative, his smile felt stronger than ever.

 The Church

    Rain steadily fell from the heavens in a steady downpour, but the two nobles walked forward unconcerned. They stood in stark contrast to each other¡ªone striding confidently as the rain drenched his clothes, while the other followed closely behind, the rain seeming to bend out of his path even as he radiated uncertainty. In silence, they moved forward, with the rain and the occasional wail the only sounds to pierce the silence of the funeral.

    They had left the ambassadors behind soon after they finished their conversation with the Divine General. They had not done much more than exchange greetings and perfunctory conversation. Even the Kararagian had known better than to try and talk business on the day of the royal family¡¯s burial.

    After they¡¯d departed, Fourier had quietly requested that Julius cease shielding him from the rain, and he¡¯d given himself a moment to simply unwind. Allowing his eyes to drift, he spotted many other nobles ignoring the rain as he was, even as a few found ways to avoid it.

    Together the two strode through the rain in silence for several minutes, before Fourier knew he needed to help Julius handle his melancholic aura, so unlike the normally calm and composed knight any longer. He knew that the two of them were not yet close friends, but he refused to see such sadness and not do anything about it.

    ¡°Julius, it¡¯s clear that our conversation with Goz has given you room for thought,¡± he said, falling in step beside him. ¡°Tell me what troubles you, my knight.¡±

    Julius hesitated, but after a moment, he acquiesced to Fourier¡¯s command.

    ¡°Your Majesty, do you really think Lugunica could manage without the Royal Family?¡± he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, so as not to concern anyone who might overhear them.

    ¡°I do.¡±

    Fourier''s answer came easily, and he spoke clearly, much to Julius¡¯s discomfort. But there was no need to fear someone overhearing this truth.

    ¡°You underestimate just how amazing you, Ferris, and the rest of the Royal Knights are. Not to mention the elders and nobles, who even now work to protect the Kingdom, and the quality of the people we govern. I firmly believe that even without me, Lugunica could have a bright future,¡± Fourier said, his tone serious.

    But that seriousness soon faded, and he allowed a cheeky smile to brighten the mood.

    ¡°Of course, that just means that with a King such as I, Lugunica is bound for greatness.¡±

    Julius didn¡¯t laugh, but a smile did touch his lips, so Fourier would chalk this up as a victory.

    His next meeting would be with the Church, and as if in response to that thought, he saw Roswaal approaching him. The man seemed¡­ restrained. Like he was keeping the usual excesses of his behaviour under wraps for the gathering. There was not a trace of rain on him, the droplets repelled by an invisible force whenever they drew close to him.

    But strangest of all, he was wearing a cloak Fourier had never seen before, one that seemed to shift in the light when he wasn¡¯t looking directly at it. It was coloured in the Court Mage¡¯s usual shades of purple, but something about it seemed¡­ nondescript. As if it were completely ordinary, and not the gaudy wardrobe that Fourier could clearly see it for.

    ¡°Your Ma~jesty.¡± Roswaal greeted with a bow.

    ¡°Good of you to join us, Roswaal,¡± Fourier said, dragging his eyes away from the cloak to look at Roswaal¡¯s face. He still wore clown makeup, which brightened up his face, but the man did not seem comfortable. Well, Fourier supposed that was to be expected, given the person they were about to talk to.

    ¡°We are heading to meet the Church¡­ Which is something you''re clearly already aware of with that timing of yours,¡± Fourier noted with a tired sigh. ¡°Your information on the Church is clearly more up-to-date than my own, especially with your ¡®vested interest¡¯. Tell me, is there anything I should be aware of?¡±

    ¡°Nothing that¡¯s rele~vant to matters at hand,¡± Roswaal replied. ¡°I take it that you¡¯ve met Bishop Jaune before?¡±

    Fourier nodded. He¡¯d first met Jaune when he was young. The man was the youngest Bishop in centuries, and it had been hoped that the smaller age gap would give him an easier time teaching the rowdy young Fourier.

    It hadn¡¯t taken Fourier long to learn the lessons, which had pushed Jaune to incorporate more details than Fourier cared to know about the Church.

    Beyond his distant memories of his youth, he could far more easily recall Jaune in meetings with his father, where the man had seemed perpetually nervous. It had been clear even to him that Jaune had hung onto his father¡¯s every word back then.

    Fourier hadn¡¯t had the experience of seeing Jaune at work either, although the man had incredible charisma when he focused, and was a true believer in the divinity of both the dragon and royals. He¡¯d have to be, to have achieved the most prominent position in the church, second only to the monarch himself.

    It made him wonder which Jaune he¡¯d see today, and what his new status would mean to him. After all, even though Goz had been incredibly crude, he hadn¡¯t been lying when he had emphasised what a difference there was between a formally recognized King, and an informal one.

    Especially in Lugunica, where the full title meant that the Divine Dragon himself had recognized and approved of him. Such a difference could matter to a believer as fervent as Jaune, especially since he would be ordering him to accept Roswaal disobeying his father¡¯s final wishes.

    Fourier doubted that Jaune would ever go directly against the crown, but all he had to do was share his displeasure with his followers, and any hope of keeping Roswaal¡¯s involvement secret would disappear.

    At the very least, Jaune should have taken part in the preparation of each of the Royal Bodies himself, as was customary of the Capital¡¯s Bishop. The fact that it wasn¡¯t already common knowledge suggested that at the very least, Jaune had accepted the council¡¯s orders.

    Although even that could have been out of interest. To Fourier¡¯s shock, there were apparently talks of adding Jaune himself to the council in order to give a seat to the church.

    The bishop was not alone in the field. He stood in discussion with two companions, neither of whom were in the traditional white robes required for the ceremony. One was in the blue dress of a priestess, and stood uneasily, nervously fiddling with her hands. The other woman was dressed in a standard civil official business uniform, and appeared far more relaxed, almost seeming bored.

    One of the church¡¯s civil employees, perhaps? Fourier thought to himself. I don¡¯t recognise her, but if she¡¯s with Jaune, she must be important.

    Jaune himself was dressed in his typical attire, a long white robe that was ornately decorated, his blond hair covered with a white hat that had always been a little too large. In his youth, Fourier had once asked him why he didn¡¯t simply have it resized, which had prompted a lecture about the values of tradition, and had taught Fourier a great deal about the ancient hat¡¯s history.

    ¡°Jaune, you did a lovely job organising the ceremony. I take it the two besides you must have helped a great deal?¡± Fourier inquired as they reached him, forcing a gentle tone.

    Jaune turned to face him, and a large smile lit up his face.

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty,¡± he said, bowing deeply. ¡°Both Sakura and Melty were invaluable to the ceremony. Sakura is our cathedral¡¯s treasurer, and handled acquisitions for the event today, and Melty is one of my finest priestesses. While she was unable to take part in the ceremony today, she performed many of the last rites.¡±

    He looked quite proud as he spoke, like a father bragging about a talented daughter.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,¡± Melty said, immediately lowering herself into a quick bow, only to tip too far and almost fall over, her nerves ruining the practised gesture.

    Fourier didn¡¯t say anything, but his amusement must have shown on his face because Melty had turned beat red and refused to even look at him.

    Jaune watched with a small smile, although Fourier noticed he had turned his head as if to avoid looking at Roswaal directly.

    The reminder caused the last of his amusement to vanish and he turned towards Jaune.

    ¡°It was a pleasure to meet two of the people who helped put this ceremony together, however, Jaune, there are other matters I¡¯d like to get your council on,¡± Fourier concluded, allowing a slight emphasis on his word choice.

    Jaune nodded, white hat slipping to shade his eyes.

    Sakura pursed her lips, and then understanding seemed to dawn on her.

    ¡°In that case, we will be on our way,¡± she said, taking Melty by the hand. ¡°Father Jaune, we prepare for our return to the cathedral. We can manage on our own, so there is no need to rush.¡±

    With that, she guided Melty away, and headed for a group of the other priests.

    After the two had walked several metres, Fourier turned to Julius, well aware that asking Roswaal would simply be provoking the Bishop at this point.

    ¡°Julius, put up a barrier to prevent us from being overheard,¡± he said, turning to face Jaune directly.

    ¡°We both know that what I¡¯m about to command is distasteful,¡± he said as the sounds of the crowd faded away to nothing, leaving only the faint breeze of Julius¡¯s barrier. ¡°But it was thanks to his actions that the Royal Line wasn¡¯t ended.¡±

    Fourier had originally planned to have Roswaal begin the negotiations, however, after seeing Jaune¡¯s face, he realised that would be pointless.

    Because while Jaune had tried to avoid looking at Roswaal directly, Fourier had seen the flash of fiery hatred that had crossed his eyes as they had approached.

    ¡°Your Majesty, it was your father¡¯s dying wish that his children be spared such desecration!¡± Jaune growled, his face turning red, and his tone steadily rising. ¡°Have you seen your brothers¡¯ bodies?! Zabinel was desecrated beyond anything I¡¯ve ever seen!¡±

    Fourier closed his eyes, because he didn¡¯t want to imagine his eldest brother torn to pieces. He¡¯d witnessed what unchecked Water Mana could do to bodies when he had rescued Ferris from Biehn Argyle, the man who had been Ferris¡¯s father in name only, and the thought of Zabinel¡¯s body being treated similarly made Fourier want to assault Roswaal.

    However, this wasn¡¯t just about feelings, because the truth was he agreed with what Roswaal had done. He honestly believed that Lugunica could still flourish without him, but what about their next leader?

    The assassin had already killed Lugunica¡¯s leadership once, so what was to stop it from doing so again?

    During his curse, he¡¯d been under the impression that it was an illness.

    Studying the bodies would still have been helpful, and could have dramatically sped up any research into the disease. But he could admit to being selfish enough that even if it would have been best for Lugunica and the medical community, he¡¯d refuse to let them be studied.

    He didn¡¯t want his own body being disrespected in such a manner, let alone his beloved family members. From that perspective, he could understand his own Father¡¯s decision.

    However, things changed when. rather than a natural illness, this was revealed to be a weapon made to kill them. It had not been misfortune that had befallen them, but the ire of an unknown assassin, with unknown intentions towards Lugunica. That simple fact changed the calculus completely.

    Had the entire Royal Family been wiped out, the kingdom would have had time while deciding on a new ruler, which might have allowed Roswaal to find and destroy those responsible himself. But that would be putting the entire kingdom¡¯s stability on one man. If he failed in that situation, they may have kept losing monarchs until Lugunica fell to ruin.

    Fourier hated to admit it, but he knew that given the knowledge of the curse and Roswaal¡¯s capabilities, he wouldn¡¯t have just granted Roswaal permission to desecrate his entire family.

    No, he¡¯d have ordered it done.

    Such knowledge didn¡¯t dissipate the anger, but it allowed him to control it. Opening his eyes he looked Jaune straight in the eyes, allowing his own anger to show.

    Jaune grit his teeth but looked downwards after several seconds.

    ¡°Your Majesty has made up his mind then? To ignore your Father¡¯s final words?¡± Jaune¡¯s entire body shook in disbelief.

    ¡°I have.¡±

    Fourier refused to mince words. He had his reasons, but in the end, it was his order that Jaune let this go.

    Jaune¡¯s body slowly stilled, but as he looked at Fourier, his eyes seemed to centre at where his crown should sit.

    ¡°Your Majesty¡­ no, Your Highness. I will accept your words for now,¡± Jaune said quietly, with resignation and disappointment. But then his voice began to rise, not with anger but with a burning intensity that commanded attention. ¡°I am not a man who truly understands the strategic importance of the wretch beside you, but I worry that without further guidance you¡¯ll continue to drift further astray.¡±

    Fourier¡¯s eyes widened as he realised that this was the Jaune that had skyrocketed through the ranks of the church with his charisma alone, and ended by becoming the Bishop of the Capital at an almost unprecedented young age.

    ¡°It is easy to look at the world with nothing but logic, where each person is just a piece on a board. Where people are not individuals who all matter, but instead simply pawns serving their king. I know that for many countries in history, such Kingship was all too common, and for many, it is a sign of strength and power.¡±

    Jaune allowed a moment to pause as he stared steadily at Roswaal, who returned the gaze silently.

    ¡°But,¡± he continued, ¡°it was your Father¡¯s compassion that inspired us all to go beyond our limits. I¡¯ll admit that in a world without our Divine Dragon, such compassion might have led us down the wrong path, but it is precisely because of it that such a man was the Ideal King for Lugunica.¡± Allowing his gaze to swap from Roswaal to Fourier, he smiled and kneeled on the dirt, allowing dirt to stain white robes.

    ¡°I will gladly accept the invitation to join the council, due to the growing concerns, and I pray that my service there will be enough that you will one day rule with all the compassion your father did.¡±

    Fourier stared at the kneeling form. For a moment even he had been moved by the man¡¯s speech. It was a touching sentiment, and he could tell that Jaune meant it from the bottom of his heart. However, he thought it telling how even Jaune used the Dragon to prop up his Father, rather than defending him solely on his merits.

    Slowly a burning resentment stirred in his gut, and for the first time in his life, he felt a tinge of resentment for the Dragon that protected them.

    It was irrational, he knew, and the Dragon had done nothing to deserve such feelings. But it stung to see one of the men who most respected his Father act in such a way, and it sparked a desire to one day have somebody defend his own decisions without invoking the dragon.

    ¡°Jaune, in honour of the service you¡¯ve performed my father, and because you saved such insolence for a private audience, I¡¯ll overlook your behaviour,¡± Fourier said. ¡°However, never forget that although you join the council, its purpose is to advise me and not rule for me. My decision to utilise Roswaal skills for our Kingdom is not up for debate.¡±

    Fourier paused for a moment to let it sink in, before allowing himself to smile as he relaxed, and offered a hand to the kneeling man before him.

    With a heave, Fourier had pulled the man up and allowed Jaune to sweep the worst of the mud off his robes.

    ¡°While we have our disagreements, trust that I do choose my actions for the sake of our Kingdom,¡± Fourier said. ¡°I am not my Father, and so I cannot rule in the same way he once did. There will undoubtedly be decisions I make that will be worse than him. But by that same metric, there will be ones I make that are better as well.¡±

    Jaune bowed, clearly having heard the dismissal in Fourier¡¯s voice, and with one final glare at Roswaal he left, passing through the swirling wind without resistance.

    Julius glanced at Fourier to see if he should lower the barrier, but Fourier shook his head and turned to Roswaal.

    ¡°I suppose I should thank you for not interrupting and making things worse,¡± he said. ¡°I did not expect Jaune to react so negatively. Not once did he stop aiming his hostility towards you.¡±

    Roswaal¡¯s grin slowly grew as his eyes locked onto Fourier¡¯s own.

    ¡°Why your Ma~jesty, seeing you defend me was well worth the price. We both know that the Bishop spo~ke only the truth after all. You will be a different sort of ruler compared to your Father. He would never have agreed to spare me after what I did to his family, even if it was to save Lugu~nica.¡±

    Fourier saw Julius tighten his grip on his sword, but no outburst came from him this time.

    Instead of allowing his own anger to erupt, Fourier stared at Roswaal, practically willing his intuition to tell him why Roswaal would say something so outrageous.

    Several seconds passed in silence, before the answers unfolded in his mind. Roswaal was doing this primarily to anger him, which had dual purposes. First it allowed Roswaal to see exactly how he dealt with such emotions, now that he was starting to recover physically. Second and more importantly it would cement Fourier¡¯s distaste for the man, as rather than attempt to fix his damaged image, it would appear Roswaal would prefer to know exactly what Fourier thought of him.

    Fourier¡¯s frown deepened as he felt a headache form. The worst part was that he couldn¡¯t deny that the plan was working flawlessly. Unwilling to subject himself to more of Roswaal¡¯s games, and aware that he wouldn¡¯t be able to get anything else from the man, he simply gestured for Julius to break the barrier and stormed off.

    <hr>

    Invisible winds swirled around the Royal Mausoleum, all bearing a deep sadness. Crusch had rarely seen so much emotion gathered in one place, and even in prior funerals she had attended, never had the sorrow been so rich. Proof of just how beloved the Lugunica Royal Family was made her own heart clench and deepened her own sorrow.

    Yet rather than their surroundings, she found her eyes drawn to their new king instead. Placed as he was in the centre of the ceremony, Fourier stood out even when surrounded by the royal knights. It would have been easy to use that to explain the way her gaze was drawn to him. But in truth, she had simply become familiar with seeing Fourier¡¯s emotions. So when he began the speech that had been prepared, she found herself focusing on those emotions instead.

    Sorrow was the most dominant emotion he radiated, but she spotted joy, fear, loneliness mixed in as well. But what worried her most was that the puzzling wind Fourier had always possessed had weakened. It was still present and as she spotted him sneak a look at Ferris, she saw as it flared to life before weakening once more.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Crusch had spotted a certain frantic energy about the king, now that he knew he¡¯d live, and his emotions reflected that in turn. It had made their separation more difficult than it normally was, although Julius¡¯s presence by his side helped alleviate some of it. She put great faith in Ferris¡¯s judgement of character and knew the two would become friends in the future. In some ways, that made her feel lonely, but it would be the height of foolishness to indulge her desires. Perhaps when the current crisis had abated, they would have time for such idle activities.

    She watched as the coffins were entered into their final resting place, and found herself taking an unconscious step forward when she saw the sorrow overwhelm Fourier.

    Yet the hand that had gently rested on her shoulder tightening banished such sentiments, and as she turned to face her father, she found herself frozen.

    This wasn¡¯t the private funeral that she had attended with Ferris, where Fourier had collapsed into their arms wailing. It could not be her place to so publicly comfort their King.

    Instead she watched, feeling helpless, and all she could do was renew her personal vow. Crusch Karsten refused to see Fourier Lugunica dominated by sadness. She¡¯d destroy the ones that had caused this, and would never allow it to be repeated.

    <hr>

    Crusch walked with her Father quietly, focusing on the winds around them. Meckart had been requested to socialise while keeping Fourier in eyeshot. It allowed her to be seen and see to her duties as both head of the Karsten and Captain of Public Safety. She¡¯d been tempted to request her Father drift closer when Fourier had moved to talk to the foreign diplomats.

    But while it was more difficult to perform her duty, she¡¯d been able to read the wind even from a distance. She kept an eye on Fourier and Julius, easily recognisable by the outfits they wore, as they approached the ambassadors from the other three great nations.

    Crusch was too far away to make out more than the ambassadors¡¯ general builds, but she could still read their emotions fine. The skinny one was animated, but his emotions were dull, the wind blowing around him radiating nothing but greed. The portly one was most similar to the mood of the crowd, feeling both sorrow and anxiety.

    But the large, auburn-haired one made her hackles rise. He felt no sorrow, no regret, nothing. Only boredom and a faint trace of amusement.

    That one was almost assuredly the Vollachian ambassador. Neither of the other countries would dare to send someone so crass.

    When Julius¡¯s aura flared with indignation and rage, she¡¯d almost rushed over, but Fourier¡¯s emotions hadn¡¯t spiked to the same extent. Instead she forced herself to examine the winds near them for as much information as possible.

    The dominant emotion she saw in the Vollachian was intrigue. But what interested her most were the secondary feelings, for she felt both anger and begrudging respect seemingly aimed at the same subject, likely Fourier himself.

    People often felt multiple emotions regarding complex topics, and it made Crusch wish that she could participate in the conversation herself. She¡¯d grown skilled over the years at using conversations to allow the winds to reveal more.

    But that¡¯s not my mission, she had to remind herself, and swept her eyes over the rest of the crowd near Fourier. Only after she was satisfied that no one held harmful intentions did she allow herself to look back at the group.

    After another spike of anger from Julius, Fourier said a few words, and the emotions of the entire group turned to incredulity. It was a bit amusing to see Fourier¡¯s doubt start to grow the way it did when he wasn¡¯t sure whether or not he said the right thing. But confidence in himself eclipsed that doubt.

    When he turned his head to address one of the other ambassadors, the anger had cooled to a low simmer. Crusch couldn¡¯t guess at what they had discussed, but for the time being, it seemed Fourier had managed to neutralise the situation.

    ¡°Qui~te something, isn¡¯t he?¡±

    Crusch snapped her attention to her side at the sound of the voice. A nondescript elderly man had approached while she had been concentrating on Fourier¡¯s group. She glanced at her father, but his group had moved a short distance, and he hadn¡¯t noticed the man either.

    He lifted a hand, twirling strands of wind magic through his fingers. The sight of an unknown person casting magic so close to her set Crusch on guard, but with the sight bestowed by her Divine Protection, she could see wind spells as clearly as she could see emotions of the flow of air. This one was a simple wind barrier that would obscure their voices to anyone outside its range. It wasn¡¯t an uncommon spell, used extensively by nobles to prevent eavesdropping while they were in public.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡± she asked, turning her head to look at him directly.

    Now that she was focusing on him, something seemed strange. His outfit did not stand out, and yet it was coloured in the gaudiest shades of purples she had ever seen. Even with her terrible fashion sense, she could tell that it should have been an offence to her sensibilities.

    ¡°Help? Perha~ps,¡± the man replied. ¡°I wished to talk for a moment. After all, there are few as clo~se to our new King as you are.¡±

    Crusch narrowed her eyes. Normally, such a statement would have indicated that the man wished to use her to find out about Fourier, but the man¡¯s emotions did not indicate he was trying to manipulate. And he seemed so familiar¡­

    ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked.

    The man blinked at her, then smiled, the slightest tinge of embarrassment flowing around him.

    ¡°Ah, my apologies. I do not do so we~ll with crowds, so I¡¯ve been wearing this to grant myself a little space,¡± he said, running a hand down his cloak.

    And then in an instant, Crusch recognised his pale face, covered in makeup, the bizarre outfit, and the strange manner of speech.

    ¡°Margrave Mathers,¡± she said, immediately bowing her head to him. ¡°I apologise for my¡ª¡±

    ¡°Pay it no mi~nd,¡± Roswaal interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°I should extend my own apologies to you. This particular cloak makes percei~ving my identity difficult.¡±

    Crusch stared at it, then nodded. ¡°I see,¡± she whispered, ¡°you do not wish for our advisory to discern your presence here.¡±

    Roswaal remained silent for a moment. ¡°...yes, I suppose you could say that. More to the point, have you noticed anything so far?¡±

    Crusch shook her head. ¡°Nothing out of the ordinary.¡±

    ¡°As I expected,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°Sir Felix and Sir Reinhard have not raised any commotion ei~ther. But do remain alert. This day is the easiest for our enemy to get close enough to lea~rn of His Majesty¡¯s condition.¡±

    Crusch nodded. ¡°Of course.¡±

    She glanced at Fourier¡¯s group, then looked back at Roswaal.

    ¡°I apologise if I overstep,¡± she began, ¡°but I have not had the chance to speak to you yet. I wished to thank you for your actions in protecting His Majesty.¡±

    She bowed deeply once more. ¡°You have my gratitude.¡±

    A touch of guilt swirled around Roswaal, and he turned away from her. ¡°Had I succeeded at convincing the King to examine the first bodies, most of the royal line would have survived. That gratitude is misplaced.¡±

    The wind of untruth did not blow around him, but Crusch had long since learned that just because someone believed what they said, did not mean that it was the truth in reality.

    ¡°Regardless, it is how we feel,¡± Crusch said. ¡°When this can safely be revealed to the public, I have no doubt that most will feel the same way.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡± Roswaal whispered. He glanced in Fourier¡¯s direction, who seemed just about finished with the ambassadors, and then said, ¡°It seems that I will be needed now. However, before I go, I have something for you.¡±

    He pulled a small object out of his pocket and raised it out to Crusch.

    She took it in one hand and examined it. It was a small circular item, resembling a conversing mirror, except it had no clasp to open it.

    ¡°That is a metia of my own design,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°Speak a message into it while concentrating on a person, and the wind will carry your words to them. I would have given it out earlier, but I only finished this prototype today. The range is short, but it should be sufficient for today.¡±

    Crusch bowed her head. ¡°I understand. Thank you, Lord Roswaal. Should the situation arise, I will make use of it.¡±

    Roswaal nodded, and turned, dispelling the wind barrier around them without a word.

    Crusch turned her attention back to Fourier, who had begun to move on. Her father was still deep in discussion, and while he was mostly there to serve as a method for her to avoid conversation, he was not so unimportant that she could drag him away.

    Thus, she moved on alone, trusting her own ability to avoid superfluous conversation. She kept Fourier within her sight at all times, periodically scanning the crowd around them.

    Roswaal joined up with Fourier and Julius, which made the tension in her heart ease up a bit. With him by Fourier¡¯s side, there was no possibility for a curse to grasp him once more.

    However, the tension immediately returned when Fourier reached another group, and she saw a hurricane of sheer rage.

    It was an intense, personal rage, so overpowering she could practically feel it blowing on her skin.

    The assassin?

    She picked up her pace, cursing herself for leaving her father behind. She could have gotten him to carry a message if things were desperate. As it was¡­

    She lifted the metia Roswaal had given her, ready to send a message at the slightest hint of trouble. Despite how much she wished to rush in or call Reinhard, she did not feel that she could afford to cause a commotion until she knew for certain what was going on. If the source of this anger was not the assassin, her actions could give away the fact that the kingdom was on guard.

    If only she could see more than the robe¡¯s colours from this distance.

    To her surprise, she soon felt the winds distort around Fourier, obscuring the details of the emotions wafting off him and those accompanying him. She could still detect the intensity of the emotions surrounding Fourier easily, but it was in the colours and details of the Wind that she could pick out useful information.

    After a moment¡¯s thought she recognized the phenomenon as a wind screen, a more potent version of the wind barrier Roswaal had just used. She could make out the strands of magic, which were thicker and less elegant than the ones Roswaal had used. It was probably Julius¡¯s spell. As she grew closer, she was able to make out the faces close to Fourier.

    Besides Julius, Bishop Jaune had joined Fourier, along with the Margrave, Roswaal.

    The sight should have reassured her, but instead she could feel her gut twisting. Did one of those prominent members hate each other? Worse yet, was it directed towards Fourier?

    Crusch soon began to look for weaknesses in the wind screen, so that she could resume her duty, but soon stumbled upon another worrying detail as she saw a foreign wind trailing across Julius¡¯s barrier. It was well hidden, and if she hadn¡¯t been examining the barrier directly she wouldn¡¯t have spotted it.

    Julius¡¯s barrier wasn¡¯t powerful per say, she could easily shatter it as could many others. However it would be an obvious feat that would alert Julius immediately. Sneaking through the barrier was a far more impressive feat, and one she wasn¡¯t sure she could accomplish herself.

    Crusch hesitated for only a moment, before deciding to trust Julius to keep Fourier safe. In a fight between her and the Finest Knight, she doubted that she would be the one to prove victorious.

    And even if she did choose to trade places with Julius, he would have to rely on his wind spirit to follow the magic, a slower and far more obvious method of tracking than Crusch¡¯s Divine Protection.

    No, Julius¡¯s place was by His Highness, while hers was handling this spy. Her heart felt heavy for a moment, but she was already striding away.

    She let her hand rest on the hilt of her sword and assessed how prepared she was for possible combat. It was unfortunate that she could not have worn her usual military uniform, instead dressed in a simple funeral dress that had been picked out to impede her movements the least.

    It couldn¡¯t be helped though. This funeral was the most formal event she had ever attended. To so blatantly ignore decorum would be unacceptable.

    Her Father had even been thankful for her reputation of disdain towards feminine or restricting clothing. As while normally a noble woman of her stature would be required to wear an elaborate dress, instead wearing a simple one was considered a large concession on her part.

    Truthfully her sword wasn''t something that she would be able to use easily, as conspicuous as it was, but it would hopefully draw attention from her true weapon, her magic. If pressed, she could use her bare hands to release Wind Blades almost as sharp as the ones from her sword, even if it wasn¡¯t her preferred combat style.

    Ideally she would sneak up as close to the spy as possible, as if she could get close enough to hit the man with a blunted version of her wind strike, or sneak up behind him and get him in a choke-hold, she might be able to avoid drawing attention to herself, especially if she used her magic to silence her actions.

    Wind magic could prevent noise from escaping through several different methods, from forcing a target to hold their breath to a barrier preventing noise from entering or leaving an area. Crusch could perform a wind barrier of her own, however if her target was skilled enough to sneak through a wind screen they would almost certainly notice if she created one, alerting them before her attack.

    In addition, while a wind barrier distorted the sounds, and details of her Divine Protection, it could not truly obscure sight. While her invisible wind magic could be hidden, if she drew her sword it would take but one person noticing to cause a commotion.

    Crusch frowned in contemplation. She had never been fond of attacking without first speaking with her target. Many would mistake it solely for chivalry, and while that was part of it there were also tactical reasons.

    When cornered there were enemies that would rather deny a defeat and die than survive and accept defeat. The possibilities were varied, from the culprit using poison capsules, to slitting their own throat, or in some rare cases, they might use powerful magic to blow themselves and everyone around them away.

    Thankfully, the last scenario was highly unlikely, as those displays tended to stand out, and in a funeral with such powerful attendants, someone would notice buildup of mana that the culprit would have to use.

    But either of the other two methods, or even a weak spell designed to shred the user¡¯s own body could make an autopsy difficult, even for someone as gifted as Ferris.

    By being diplomatic and taking the first overtures, enemies were less likely to resort to their last resources with the exception of the truly insane such as the Witch Cult.

    For a moment the hand not resting on her sword rested on the metia the Margrave had lent her. It opened up options that she would be foolish to ignore, and while contacting any of the members in the wind screen would alert her target, others were still an option.

    Crusch wished she had a chance to test it beforehand to see how noticeable such an item was to a skilled Wind Mage. However Roswaal himself was such a mage and hadn¡¯t warned her against such actions either.

    Raising the metia to her lips, she concentrated on the world¡¯s most powerful knight, who had lingered in the funeral for such a purpose.

    ¡°Reinhard, I am following the trail of a potential assailant, who is attempting to spy on His Majesty. Please follow covertly after receiving this message.¡±

    She carefully watched the device to see if she could spot the Wind that would ferry her message, but if it had worked, even she could not tell.

    The trail led her to a man in a black suit, the standard for the funeral. She didn¡¯t recognize him on sight, nor did the swirling of the wind around him remind her of anyone. Was he perhaps a lesser noble one she had never met, or perhaps even a commoner dressed up for the event? To her sight his clothes seemed fine, and he stood straight, his complexion indicating he was in good health.

    He stood alone, his eyes focused entirely on the heavens, twisting his magic to his will. The wind he controlled seemed to blend in with the sky itself, easily hiding itself despite the sheer quantity present.

    Should she wait for Reinhard to arrive? He would find capturing the man unharmed far easier than she would, and it would be done without a commotion as well.

    Before she could come to a decision, the man ceased his casting, finally allowing his eyes to look around him, and in an instant, their eyes met.

    Crusch saw as the Wind already infused with the man¡¯s mana abandoned its old form in seconds, as it reformed into a hammer of wind screaming towards her. Normally such fierce wind magic would take time to form, but the man had bypassed it by preparing the mana ahead of time.

    Crusch''s right hand tightened around her sword, but instead she swung her empty left hand against the wind, trusting that even against such magic, her own wind would surpass her foe.

    The blade of wind, as sharp as her own, slammed into the hammer and in seconds cut through it to slam against her foe. But instead of a blade of wind, the blade had lost all cohesion and a blast of air ripped the man off his feet.

    The man attempted to resummon the wind, his feet slipping against the wet grass, but found it once more interrupted as he slammed head first into one of the stelea with a loud thump.

    The wind dissipated and the man seemed stunned, but before Crusch could even feel a sense of victory, she saw as the gazes of the surrounding crowd began to turn towards them. She grit her teeth. It seemed unavoidable that there would be some commotion at this stage, but it would send the people into a panic if they realised a fight had broken out in the midst of the funeral.

    All she could do was end it now. Wind magic was invisible to the untrained eye, so if she blunted her blow enough, perhaps she could¡ª

    A man seemed to materialise from the air beside the spy, his fiery red hair seeming to glow in the dim light.

    ¡°Are you not feeling well, sir?¡± Reinhard asked, as he pulled the man from the ground, the Sword Saint¡¯s abnormal gate draining the mana directly out of him. It was a risky method, but one Reinhard was well-practised with. Robbed of consciousness, the man slumped in his arms.

    The crowd started muttering amongst themselves, but Reinhard¡¯s comment had shifted the sentiment. Even if someone had thought they saw a fight break out, now they would be more inclined to believe the man had merely collapsed due to exhaustion. Especially when the only spells that had been thrown around had been based on wind. Even a mage wouldn¡¯t have detected more than a flurry of mana in the air.

    Luckily, it seemed that no one was questioning that version of events. What little doubt swirled around them cleared up within moments, replaced by a concern directed at the man. Misplaced concern, considering what Crusch had just caught him trying to do, but it was better than the public belief that the kingdom had apprehended a spy.

    ¡°My, that was sudden,¡± a voice said from Crusch¡¯s side. The crowd had closed in around her due to the attention the spy had drawn, so someone had managed to get close without Crusch noticing.

    She turned to see a woman in a Civil Affairs outfit, looking at Reinhard¡¯s back as the knight carried the spy away.

    The woman glanced at Crusch, and asked, ¡°Did you see what happened? I wasn¡¯t all that close, but it looked like someone just collapsed.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it appears he stumbled and hit his head,¡± Crusch said. She wasn¡¯t great at lying, but the woman seemed to have bought her explanation. The emotions flowing around her mostly indicated weariness, with an underlying touch of concern and anxiety.

    ¡°Ah, I see,¡± the woman said. ¡°Yes, it can be difficult to walk on wet grass. It¡¯s unfortunate that we had such an accident.¡±

    She sighed, and looked back at Crusch. ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll have to offer him healing as compensation. How troublesome.¡±

    Crusch tilted her head. ¡°You will? I believe His Majesty will handle that.¡±

    The woman seemed to notice the confusion on Crusch¡¯s face, and said, ¡°Ah, I¡¯m Sakura Element. I¡¯m the treasurer of the Church of the Divine Dragon for the capital. Organising the event today was one of my tasks. I was not informed that His Majesty would be offering to cover healing for any accidental injuries. Did you hear something about it?¡±

    Crusch paused, and looked away. ¡°No, I merely know His Majesty¡¯s personality. He would not want people hurt on this day.¡±

    She technically wasn¡¯t lying, but mostly she just wished to distract the woman¡¯s attention, and to cover up that they had taken the man prisoner for his attempted spying.

    ¡°Really?¡± Sakura asked. ¡°Are you close to him? Forgive me, but I do not recognise you, miss¡­¡±

    ¡°Karsten,¡± Crusch replied, belatedly realising that she had forgotten to introduce herself. ¡°I¡¯m Crusch Karsten.¡±

    Sakura¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Lady Karsten? I extend my deepest apologies for my behaviour,¡± she said, bowing her head.

    She sounded and acted contrite, but the emotions swirling around her did not shift from weariness. It seemed the woman was too tired to properly feel anything.

    Crusch hadn¡¯t realised organising a funeral was so hard on the mind.

    ¡°It is fine,¡± she replied. ¡°All are equal on this day of mourning.¡±

    Sakura lifted her head. ¡°Yes, perhaps that is so. It is truly mournful.¡±

    She shifted to look to the mausoleum, the door tightly sealed once more. ¡°It seems unthinkable that so many died.¡±

    She lowered her voice to a whisper, and turned back to Crusch. ¡°I apologise, but I must ask¡­ is His Majesty truly safe? There are so many rumours around, at this stage I fear he may end up joining his family.¡±

    ¡°That will not happen,¡± Crusch stated. She would not let it be so. ¡°The healers are certain that they have figured out the illness. You needn¡¯t fear.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Sakura said softly. The flow of her emotions was difficult to read, but she seemed doubtful. She clearly suspected Crusch was hiding something.

    To be fair, that was exactly what Crusch was doing. She thought she had covered it up with her confident tone and demeanour, but the treasurer seemed difficult to fool. It would be best if she didn¡¯t speak about the topic too much.

    ¡°That is good to hear,¡± Sakura continued. ¡°Some of the rumours have been quite incredible, but there is always the possibility that some of them have a grain of truth to them.¡±

    Crusch narrowed her eyes. ¡°Rumours? I beg your pardon, but I¡¯m unaware of any particular rumours.¡±

    Sakura¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°Oh? They are quite prevalent in the lower regions of the city,¡± she said, then pursed her lips and put a finger to her chin. ¡°Though, I suppose the citizenry is less willing to discuss their thoughts so openly around the nobility. They wouldn¡¯t want to be disrespectful.¡±

    Disrespectful? ¡­Yes, I suppose that could make people less likely to share their thoughts.

    ¡°I will not consider it disrespectful,¡± Crusch said. ¡°And I¡¯m interested to hear what people think. If you wouldn¡¯t mind, could you tell me about them?¡±

    Sakura nodded. ¡°Well, most of them are quite unbelievable. For instance, most cast out of hand the possibility that His Majesty was behind the illness, that he used it to take the throne.¡±

    ¡°Fourier would never¡ª!¡± Crusch began, but Sakura lifted a hand.

    ¡°Yes, most of the city knows that,¡± she said. ¡°This particular rumour only thrives in the far reaches of the slums, and only with the down-on-their-luck who see the worst in everyone. Perhaps there are other regions where similar rumours abound, but I only gather information from the capital.¡±

    Crusch took a breath, forcing herself to calm down. She couldn¡¯t blame the people if they did notice something suspicious in the royal family¡¯s sudden demise. All of them died except Fourier, it would be odd if some of them didn¡¯t think that it could be a play for power.

    ¡°What others?¡± she asked. ¡°What are some that the people put faith in?¡±

    Sakura shrugged. ¡°It is difficult to say whether there are any that have any widespread belief. Most trust the announcements from the palace, that the illness was simply the result of misfortune, and that His Majesty was lucky to survive.¡±

    She paused. ¡°However, if we are to mention the more believable rumours¡­ some suspect that the illness was not misfortune at all, but an attack on Lugunica.¡±

    Crusch¡¯s blood froze. She didn¡¯t dare to speak, in case she confirmed anything the woman said.

    ¡°Vollachia has many abhorrent practices and ideals,¡± Sakura continued, seeming not to notice Crusch¡¯s dilemma. ¡°And in recent years, they have been gathering their military strength, most notably with the reinstatement of the Nine Divine Generals. Some suspect this illness was created by Vollachia to break the contract with the Divine Dragon, so they could invade the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°That¡­ is quite the rumour,¡± Crusch said.

    Sakura nodded. ¡°The product of great uncertainty, no doubt. I personally find it unlikely that they would take such an indirect method, but I¡¯ll admit, the actions of the Vollachian ambassador were enough to make me second-guess myself.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°Most other rumours are not as dire. Some suspect that the illness came from the slums, which is hard to doubt, considering how riddled with disease that place is at the best of times. Others think that Gusteko offered a cure, and that only His Majesty was still alive when it arrived.¡±

    Crusch nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She hadn¡¯t heard anything about a leak in the kingdom¡¯s operations, but the amount of correct information the citizens had surmised was astonishing. It was surrounded by so much drivel that it would be difficult to get an accurate picture of the situation from rumours alone, so she didn¡¯t think she needed to worry.

    But¡­ perhaps she¡¯d have some people look into them, just to be safe.

 Shadow of the Lion King

    Footsteps echoed across the stone floor as the green-haired beauty strode through the dim light of the dungeon. She had visited several times over the past week, but the man had remained unconscious for much longer than expected.

    Reinhard had explained that while his method of absorbing mana did not generally lead to long-term harm, the duration they stayed unconscious could vary.

    He had explained that it depended on how quickly a person could recover their mana, as well as the minimum each body required to function. Some people required large stores of mana, as was common among warriors and mages, while others needed little.

    The man had been using magic, which meant his gate must have been decent, but¡­

    The timeframe Reinhard had provided had been a few hours to a few days. Already, the spy had been unresponsive for twice the maximum, and Crusch couldn¡¯t decide what it meant.

    Healers who had examined the body had been baffled at why his mana was recovering so slowly, and while Crusch wished she could get Ferris¡¯s opinion, she¡¯d noticed how exhausted he was after each day of lessons at the Margrave.

    Stopping several feet from the entrance to the cell, Crusch narrowed her eyes. The wind emanating from the unoccupied cells was slight, almost stale. That was how it should be, given that there was no other opening in the cells for air to flow from.

    But that was not the case at the spy¡¯s door. She could clearly see a slight stream of air emerging from under the thick wood. After a moment, the stream reversed, almost as if the cell was slowly breathing in and out.

    She unsheathed her blade, instinctively falling into a fighting stance, and advanced.

    The first thing that hit her as she drew close was the smell. As a veteran of the battlefield Crusch was familiar with the smell of blood, but never had it been so strong. Another step, and her straining ears caught the quiet sound of a low-pitched drone.

    There was something in the cell. And that something wasn¡¯t likely to be their prisoner.

    She narrowed her eyes. The cell door was locked, and she had the key, but she didn¡¯t want to let her guard down to open it. It was unfortunate, but surely the warden would understand.

    She raised a hand, and flicked a finger, activating the slightest version of her signature attack.

    ¡®One Blow, a Hundred Felled¡¯ was a technique capable of shearing through the armour, flesh, and bone of one hundred people at once. A wooden door, no matter how sturdy, was no match for it.

    The blade of wind flew out, tearing through the door¡¯s locking mechanism. The door jolted, and drifted ever so slightly ajar.

    She reached out with a strand of her wind magic, and pulled the door open, both hands ready on her sword.

    The sight was so unexpected, so terrible, that she failed to process it for a moment. The only thing she could see was the disgusting aftermath of death.

    Blood painted the floor and walls of the cell red. A reddish mound lay on the cell¡¯s bed, what she could only assume was the body of the former spy. But most disturbing of all, the cell was covered with various forms of insects feeding off the blood and remains. Crusch recognized the majority of them, maggots and flies were common in the aftermath of any battle, but she couldn¡¯t place the bigger and more brightly coloured ones.

    The opening of the door had disturbed them. Crusch could see the draft from the door spread throughout the room, agitating the insects it passed over.

    Then in an instant, they swarmed, gathering together into a cloud of darkness that rushed at her.

    But Crusch was ready for them. She summoned the mana in her gate and swung her blade.

    What emerged was not the cutting edge of the technique she was famous for. To attempt to cut a swarm of insects would be the height of foolishness.

    Instead, as she swung her sword, the air rippled, and a shockwave tore through the cell, ripping through the swarm. The lightweight insects could not resist the power of the blow, and were flung against the far wall, where they were crushed into pulp.

    She maintained her combat readiness for a few seconds, then when no further insects attacked her, allowed it to fade. Aside from the maggots that had managed to cling onto the remains, there were no living things left in the cell.

    Taking a step forward to the edge of the bloodstains, she examined the room more closely. She didn¡¯t need to guess why the man had been killed. It was clear that the man had been silenced to prevent the kingdom from gaining answers, and if the abnormal bugs left behind were any clue, then it had happened recently.

    But for them to use such a method¡­ I¡¯ve never heard of anyone with control of insects. How did they get in?

    Her eyes were drawn to the flow of air in the room, a single strand of air that was easily traced back to its source.

    One of the window panes had been cut.

    The cell was located in one of the palace¡¯s towers. It was not a comfortable place by any means, but it was one of the most secure prisons in the capital, given that it was located far above the ground.

    There was no way anyone could scale the outside of the palace to open that hole.

    Crusch stepped inside the cell, heedless of the blood staining her boots. On closer inspection, the window seemed to have been cut with fine instruments. It was a perfectly circular opening, roughly two-finger-width wide.

    Slowly, Crusch removed one of her gloves, and felt the edge of the hole. It was perfectly smooth, as if created by a master craftsman.

    She narrowed her eyes.

    Very fine instruments indeed.

    She glanced at the back wall, the stone bricks obscured by the viscera of the countless insects she had killed.

    Could it have been them? I don¡¯t know of any insects that can tunnel through glass¡­

    She frowned.

    But I don¡¯t know any insects that act like this either.

    She stepped back outside the cell, her boots leaving bloody footsteps on the ground. By her own orders, guards checked this cell frequently, so could it mean the culprit knew the schedule for when to attack?

    Such knowledge was difficult to attain, since it was changed regularly. Could it indicate that this was the same culprits that had cursed the Royal Family? Or was there the possibility that this was a new enemy, and if so, could the two be colluding or sharing information?

    I don¡¯t want to believe more than one group could infiltrate our kingdom so deeply. Not after we¡¯ve tightened our guard so much.

    But she couldn¡¯t deny that this assassination was a major departure from the way the curse-user had operated. That assassination had been methodical, making sure to target each and every member of the royal family, and had even gone to serious lengths to pass it off as an illness.

    If the culprit for this new death truly was the same, why had they changed their methods? Why move so overtly now?

    Because unlike the curse, there was no way that a swarm of bugs killing a spy before he could talk could be passed off as mere happenstance. If the Kingdom didn¡¯t suspect something before, they would now, and the culprits had to know that.

    Did they already know their curse had been discovered, and they¡¯re mocking us for trying to hide that fact? Or did they think that now that Lugunica knew of it, there was no point in trying to be subtle anymore? Did they think Lugunica would continue to hide the truth after this?

    Then what of the other possibility, that this new assassination was carried out by another group?

    She didn¡¯t think Vollachia would hesitate to kill one of their own spies to tie up loose ends, and they would always have the motive to try and learn of Lugunica¡¯s secrets. The Empire was also home to various races who had strange abilities, it wasn¡¯t unthinkable that they had access to an insect controller.

    But that doesn¡¯t add up with the spy¡¯s identity. He has no ties to Vollachia, and his family¡¯s lands are nowhere near the southern border.

    Not that the spy¡¯s identity matched up with anything remotely related to assassinating the Royal Family either. But Crusch felt that the two events were too close together for them to be unconnected.

    What am I missing?

    She paused, deep in thought, but nothing came to her. She simply did not have enough information to learn anything.

    Opening her eyes, Crusch took one last look at the gruesome scene, then turned around. She needed to alert the healers and guards about what had just happened to examine the body further, even if she suspected no answers would come from it.

    But despite the uncertainty in her mind, she kept moving, leaving a trail of bloody footprints in her wake.

    <hr>

    Time steadily moved forward, and in what felt like a blink of an eye, a month had passed.

    Fourier often wondered if his father had been as busy when he had first ascended to kingship. The King had always had the final say in the running of the kingdom, but the Royal Family had many duties that were expected to be split by several members.

    Fourier had inherited them all, and while he¡¯d passed on the strongest title onto Crusch, that still left numerous other titles, all bearing their own duties to add to his already busy schedule. Already it felt as if he would never leave the palace again. The days when he could freely leave the palace felt almost like they had happened in another life.

    Worst of all, with how busy they all were, he hadn¡¯t gotten the chance to talk to either Ferris or Crusch about anything that wasn¡¯t business. Both of them had thrown themselves into their work, putting everything else aside.

    He was well aware of not only how important each of their duties was, but that both of them were fueled in part by their close friendship. Yet he was ashamed to note that thought didn¡¯t stop the loneliness that crept up on him at times. He would often daydream of simply announcing his feelings to the both of them, and simply spending time with each other just as they would in the old days.

    He knew that both of them would set their tasks aside and come if he called them, not because he was their monarch, but because of their friendship. But both of them had their own burdens that were slowly changing them.

    Each time they met Ferris grew more despondent as he failed to make tangible progress in his lessons. In turn, Crusch seemed more uncertain, her eyes seeming to constantly evaluate those around her, the only two being spared such scrutiny being Ferris and Fourier himself.

    If he had the time to truly sit them both down, then he would have tried to convince them both to open up to him and do the same.

    Or is this just an excuse, and the truth is that I can¡¯t bring myself to open up?

    The door opened and Fourier¡¯s eyes snapped open, lifting his head to look at the door. But when he saw it was just Julius, he relaxed and sank back into his mattress.

    There was already a cup of tea in the knight''s hand, and he was carrying a small stack of papers under his arm. The Finest Knight was always on top of things, even early in the morning.

    It was perhaps unsightly for a king to layabout in bed while his servants worked, but Fourier liked to have the time. The only time he allowed himself to fully contemplate everything was while drifting to and from sleep.

    ¡°Good morning, Julius,¡± he said, trying to work up the energy to start the day. ¡°And thank you as always for collecting the tea from the maids.¡±

    The Knight bowed, a smile on his face. ¡°It is my pleasure, Your Majesty.¡±

    He placed the tea on the bedside table, careful not to look directly at Fourier.

    Yes, yes, it¡¯s very amusing to see the head of state trying to get out of bed. Fourier shook his head with mock exasperation, but then realised he still wasn¡¯t making any moves to get up.

    He sighed, reluctantly swinging his duvet aside, and practically leapt out of bed.

    It was cold. So cold that he was already regretting his decision.

    ¡°Has anything important happened while I was sleeping?¡± Fourier asked, hurriedly swapping his nightclothes for a warmer outfit from his wardrobe.

    ¡°Nothing out of the ordinary took place overnight,¡± Julius reported. ¡°However, I do have the Treasurer¡¯s weekly report on the city¡¯s economic activity, and a few other ¡®notes¡¯ that he thought you might find interesting.¡±

    Fourier nodded, straightening out the creases in his overcoat as he put on his final article of clothing.

    ¡°Do those ¡®notes¡¯ contain anything major?¡±

    Julius shook his head. ¡°No changes since the last report. He says they¡¯re not finding any leads, but will continue to support Lady Crusch¡¯s efforts.¡±

    Fourier let out a small sigh, and picked up his tea. The Kingdom¡¯s Treasurer, Russel Fellow, was one of Fourier¡¯s most important advisors, and not only because he was intimately familiar with the flow of money through the country.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    He ran the kingdom¡¯s spy network, the Six Tongues, and he had been searching through every nook and cranny to try and find the ones responsible for the curse.

    In the preceding weeks, he had been assigning some of his operatives to help Crusch with both her new duties as well as her efforts to track down the sources of certain rumours. Fourier thought it was likely just the overeager imaginations of the civilians, but it wasn¡¯t like they had other leads.

    Because the one lead they had collected was¡­

    ¡°Was there anything more from our ¡®autopsy expert¡¯?¡± he asked, lowering his cup.

    Julius nodded, and flicked through the papers. ¡°Just one. He identified the carapace of one of the unknown insects, which turns out to have been an Iridescent Sun Beetle. They are fairly rare in the capital, but not too uncommon in the western parts of the country.¡±

    Identifying beetles was a rather unusual job for an autopsy, but then, they weren¡¯t using a normal autopsy expert.

    There were several nobles in the kingdom with hobbies that could kindly be referred to as ¡®eccentric¡¯. The other nobles generally tried not to mention them in polite conversation, whether they be Roswaal¡¯s tendency to shut himself in his manor and create metias, the habit of tracking down and observing birds that were gaining popularity in the south, or the practice of collecting the dead bodies of bug and insects, then framing them in their homes.

    That last hobby belonged to a rather colourful old man, Edgar Mueller, a noble with lands near Preistella. After the assassination of their only lead, Miklotov had suggested bringing him in to try and get what information they could from the remains that had been left in the cell.

    The old man had truly been methodical, cleaning and examining every little piece, and he had a wealth of knowledge about the habits and biology of the insects he identified.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose these beetles can break through glass?¡± Fourier asked.

    ¡°They cannot,¡± Julius confirmed. ¡°Lord Mueller says their jaws are designed for slicing, and they usually feed on recently dead animals.¡±

    He paused to retract the paper he was looking at, and place it down on a table. ¡°However, their jaws are apparently strong enough to cut into animal hides. A number of them could tear human skin into bloody strips in short order¡ª¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay, I get it,¡± Fourier said, lifting a hand to ward off any further details. ¡°Please don¡¯t bring them up with me again. But this makes, what? The seventh type of insect that had a specific purpose?¡±

    Julius nodded. ¡°Prior to this, he identified the green-belly wasps which sprayed acid on the bones, the dragonflies which seemed to be present to carry the flesh-eater caterpillars, and three different types of fly to consume¡ª¡±

    ¡°I said no! Please! Not when I¡¯m drinking my tea!¡±

    Julius bowed, an unrepentant smile on his face. ¡°As you wish.¡±

    Fourier sighed, taking a gulp of his beverage to try and calm his writhing stomach.

    Edgar was competent, but his descriptions of the insects could be rather¡­ graphic. Fourier had pretty quickly had to move to get his reports in writing, and then get that writing interpreted by Julius to avoid losing his meals.

    He lowered his cup, and placed it down on the table.

    ¡°An insect controller, huh?¡±

    The mood in the room turned sombre in an instant.

    ¡°It looks increasingly likely,¡± Julius confirmed. ¡°We have no records of any such Divine Protection, but Reinhard isn¡¯t able to say whether or not one exists. He believes it may be possible.¡±

    ¡°Or it could be a long-forgotten technique, like the curse arts,¡± Fourier said. ¡°Has Roswaal learned anything new, or¡­?¡±

    Julius shook his head. ¡°He believes there may be information on it in his family¡¯s library, but he did not bring any such volumes with him to the capital. Nor can he return there while Sir Felix is unable to replicate his ability.¡±

    ¡°Does Roswaal not have any retainers cleared to enter the library?¡± Fourier asked in surprise. He was aware that the older man had no direct family, so he¡¯d have expected that the man would have aid from trusted staff.

    He¡¯d even taken the time to brush up on his Father¡¯s notes on the Roswaal Family. From what he¡¯d read, they had a Great Spirit who organised and helped defend the so-called ¡®Forbidden Library¡¯.

    Julius inclined his head. ¡°From what I¡¯ve been told, he does have staff who are authorised to enter the library, and even to read some of the simpler texts contained within. However, the texts we would require are far more advanced, and only the head of the Roswaal Family may borrow them. It is part of the contract created with the Great Spirit.¡±

    Fourier clicked his tongue in annoyance, for he knew just how sacred a contract was to a Spirit and their contractor. The only way to get those books would be to send Roswaal back to his domain, a task that would unfortunately, leave Fourier vulnerable.

    With a shake of his head, he dismissed the worries. ¡°It¡¯s unfortunate, but I suppose that we¡¯ll just have to continue relying on Crusch and Ferris then.¡±

    Julius¡¯s expression became guarded, which Fourier noticed immediately. In recent weeks, they¡¯d started to open up to each other, and it had become rare for Julius to make such an expression when they were alone.

    ¡°You may speak your mind,¡± Fourier stated. ¡°You know that I value your council.¡±

    Julius blinked, then smiled sheepishly. Perhaps he thought he had managed to cover up his reaction.

    ¡°With all due respect to Your Highness,¡± he began, ¡°it¡¯s been more than a month since Ferris began to study how to dispel curses. A month is not a long time, however, Ferris has always been extremely gifted. I do not believe he has ever had to struggle to master a technique in his life. It is starting to get to him.¡±

    He lifted his head to meet Fourier¡¯s gaze. ¡°I have tried to offer my encouragement, but I fear my words are insufficient. As someone who has known him longer, do you believe that there is any way to help lighten his burden?¡±

    Fourier sighed, it brought him no pleasure to hear that his suspicions were right. He¡¯d noticed Ferris¡¯s growing despondency, but had refused to allow himself to consider that it would impact Ferris¡¯s learning.

    Leaning back, he forced himself to consider what he¡¯d do if Ferris failed to learn how to break curses. The mere thought made anger burn in his gut. Even contemplating it felt like a betrayal, for Ferris had earned Fourier¡¯s trust and respect. But a King could not afford to let such petty emotions cloud their mind.

    Keeping Roswaal inside the capital was truly the more important task, the fact that he had taken to teaching Ferris was a welcome bonus from a more utilitarian viewpoint. More than that, Fourier couldn¡¯t shake the faith he had in Ferris, even for this theoretical scenario. He knew that Ferris would be able to figure it out.

    ¡°No,¡± he finally said with a shake of his head. ¡°Unfortunately, I do not believe there is anything we can do, other than having faith in him. Even if I ordered him to take a break, he¡¯d just spend the entire time obsessing over what he could do better. He¡¯ll be able to do it. I have the utmost certainty of that.¡±

    Julius bowed his head in solemn acceptance. ¡°I suppose it is as you say. Ferris may give out his recognition to few, but he always puts his heart and soul into helping those important to him. Even for a task this difficult, Lord Roswaal believes Ferris is making excellent progress. He expects him to make a breakthrough any day now.¡±

    Fourier nodded.

    ¡°We¡¯ve talked about my friends,¡± he said, ¡°but do not think that I don¡¯t notice that you yourself have been separated from your friends and family.¡±

    Julius made the slightest movement of his shoulders, the most casual shrug the knight would allow himself to make.

    ¡°The duties of the knights often station us away from the capital,¡± he said. ¡°My family understands that these things happen sometimes. And as for my friends, this is not the first time Reinhard has been stationed elsewhere, though I¡¯ll admit it is unusual for him to be deployed indefinitely.¡±

    Fourier nodded. In general, the kingdom tried to avoid moving Reinhard suddenly, to avoid disturbing the other nations. But given the uncertainty in their relationship with the Divine Dragon, Reinhard had been sent to his family¡¯s domain in Flanders, a reasonable move to make for the Sword Saint, and well outside the exclusion zone set out by the Reinhard Law.

    But it was much closer to the Vollachian border than the capital was. Sending him there was a threat, plain and simple. A warning to the empire, that despite the kingdom¡¯s apparent weakness, they still had strength available to them.

    ¡°A little distance will not strain our bonds of friendship,¡± Julius continued, ¡°and I know that Reinhard is doing his own duty. I only hope that his estate treats him well.¡±

    Fourier nodded in understanding, while he didn¡¯t know Reinhard, as well as his Knight did, he was well aware of the complex Astra Family history, and how sending him to their home manor could cause discomfort.

    ¡°As for my brother, while I have had less time to spend with him, I would say he is even more thrilled with my new position than I am.¡± Julius smiled gently, clearly reminiscing on his brother¡¯s words.

    Fourier felt his chest tighten slightly at that expression, for his own elder brother had given him such an expression once upon a time.

    Before he could ruminate further in his thoughts, a knock at the door caught both of their attention. Julius went to open the door, a hand resting on his sword, a habit Fourier still had trouble getting used to, despite the necessity of it.

    Miklotov entered with a smile and a bow of his own to Fourier. It was unusual to see him this early, but he supposed he should have expected it after last night.

    ¡°Your Majesty, it is good to see you in fine health,¡± Miklotov said.

    Fourier sighed. Normally he¡¯d hate to be so curt with a man he respected so much, but if this was what he thought¡­

    ¡°I have not changed my mind about the coronation ceremony being lower on my priority list than catching the culprit behind my family''s deaths, Miklotov.¡±

    Miklotov''s smile didn¡¯t fade at the words, and in fact, it seemed to grow a little more mischievous. After a moment of silence he replied, ¡°That was not my intention, however, I am open to it if you feel the need to discuss it further.¡±

    A very polite way to disarm someone, Fourier noted, but simply shook his head.

    Perhaps he had been wrong to jump to conclusions, but that particular question was the greatest point of contention between Fourier and his Prime Minister.

    Miklotov believed the coronation should take place as soon as possible, and Fourier wanted to delay it as long as he could, or at least until they had some breathing room.

    Since the creation of the contract with the Divine Dragon, every new King had been crowned in Volcanica¡¯s presence, in an elaborate ceremony to reaffirm the contract.

    It was a ceremony Fourier was keenly aware he did not have the time to do.

    Traditionally the Crown Prince would pray with the Church for several days, using an artefact gifted to them to contact Volcanica himself, who would come and bless the new crown and renew their oaths.

    Fourier did not have time to spend those few days activating the artefact. Too much of his time was spent simply keeping the kingdom running. He had already delegated too many important tasks to administrators he didn¡¯t trust fully.

    His predecessors had not had the same issue, as they were usually crowned after the prior king had abstained, and they could rely on them to keep the kingdom running. Even in the cases that the prior king wasn¡¯t alive, his predecessors had been able to rely on the rest of the Royal Family to help carry the burdens.

    But Fourier had no family left, and those few he did trust with the power to rule in his absence were instead busy attempting to destroy the curse-user.

    And it wasn¡¯t like he could get Miklotov to cover for him, the Prime Minister was just as overworked as he was.

    He wished he could get someone else to activate the artefact, but supposedly it only responded to those of royal blood.

    He sighed. There was no helping it, he did need to be crowned soon to legitimise his position as King, but he could not stomach the thought of letting the curse-user slip even further away.

    ¡°If it¡¯s not about the coronation, then I assume that you want to discuss the events of yesterday¡¯s meeting with the full court?¡± Fourier asked.

    Miklotov nodded. ¡°It¡¯s as you say. This is the first time your greater plans have been presented to the nobility as a whole, rather than just to myself and your subordinates.¡±

    Fourier rubbed his forehead at the thought, just remembering the headache of the previous day was unpleasant.

    Originally he¡¯d wanted to bring up all of his plans to the council, but Miklotov had convinced him of the need to stay impartial. Miklotov had instead partitioned a few of the less extreme proposals among Fourier¡¯s most stalwart allies in the court, and they had brought up the plans in his place, including steps to minimise the ongoing demi-human discrimination, how to better handle the slums, as well as a proposal to renew the stockpiling of food in case a disaster hit.

    The sheer amount of blowback to those proposals had surprised him. The majority of the outer court had scoffed at them, criticising every little detail, and questioning the underlying purpose.

    ¡°The demi-human discrimination shouldn¡¯t be a priority right now.¡±

    ¡°Leave the slums, they¡¯re just a drain on our resources!¡±

    ¡°Famine? So what if there is a famine? The Divine Dragon will fix it!¡±

    Fourier was well aware that if he had revealed that he had drafted those plans, their words would have been put more delicately, but the result would have been the same.

    He was still new to his position, and the last few Kings had earned a reputation for being overly optimistic. Without hard results, he was unlikely to be able to push anything through the court. He would still be able to enact his will as king, but without the support of the court, it was unlikely that his edicts would be treated as law in the majority of the kingdom.

    The nobles had an odd dichotomy between being extremely cautious and utterly carefree. They resisted any change in small acts of governance, being afraid to make the situation worse. But for large things, like the possibility of famine or invasion, they did not seem to see any issues. After all, the Divine Dragon would protect them.

    It frustrated Fourier to no end. It seemed no wonder that the Kingdom was in the midst of an economic collapse. As a whole, the nobles did not take the possibility of a crisis seriously. They had grown used to the security Volcanica provided, and had forgotten that the Dragon did not interfere with internal affairs.

    What was worse was that the counter-arguments to his proposals weren¡¯t entirely without merit. They were correct to question the cost of the measures Fourier wanted to take.

    After all, the kingdom¡¯s Treasury simply did not have much gold left in it. The vast majority of the revenue they raised was spent before it even reached their vaults. Fourier had himself proposed increasing taxes to make up the shortfall, however, the nobles had openly pushed back against that idea.

    Fourier sighed. In truth, he couldn¡¯t really blame them. The problems the kingdom was having with their economy weren¡¯t happening in isolation. The nobles had their own lands to govern, and they too were being hit by hardship. Increasing the burden on them further might cause some of the lesser domains to collapse into anarchy.

    He supposed if there had been a simple solution to the conundrum, then his own father would have used it.

    ¡°You were not wrong when you said that the majority of the council would not like my proposals, but I still believe it was worth the attempt,¡± Fourier said. ¡°After all, it also told us who would welcome those ideas.¡±

    Miklotov tilted his head. ¡°There were less costly methods to find sympathisers,¡± he said, ¡°but I will admit that it was rather effective at finding the most passionate. Do you have any ideas on how to follow up with them?¡±

    Fourier pursed his lips. ¡°Nothing concrete, but I¡¯ve been thinking over some methods to begin. The kingdom¡¯s coffers aren¡¯t so empty that we are in danger of collapsing anytime soon, provided we don¡¯t have to face a major emergency. If there are things we can do without drawing on them, that will increase my reputation with the court, and allow us to win over more participants in our proposals.¡±

    Miklotov nodded. ¡°Then I assume you have an idea of what those things might be?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll create a new branch of the Healer¡¯s guild,¡± Fourier said. ¡°The Royal Family owns several old buildings in the city, several of which have fallen out of use. We can use one of them for a new training institute, and the location will make it easier for commoners to get treatment.¡±

    He sighed. ¡°The only problem is that the building would have to be renovated and staff hired, but without access to the treasury, I don¡¯t possess the funds to do so. I could ask for donations from the nobility, but that would put more strain on our allied houses.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°It all comes down to money. We need money to fix things, but we don¡¯t have it, and so the problems get worse, and thus we raise less in taxes. It¡¯s a vicious cycle I do not see a way to break.¡±

    Miklotov stroked his beard. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve found the same. It has been all the kingdom can do to slow the decline, and reversing it has often seemed nothing but a wishful dream.¡±

    But then he smiled, in stark contrast to his sombre words. ¡°However, I have faith that we will be able to get through this with you on the throne, Your Majesty.¡±

    Fourier snapped his head up.

    ¡°Me?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m thankful for the vote of confidence, but I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m in any more of a position to steer the country back on track than Father was.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Miklotov said, then he chuckled. ¡°But perhaps you would be surprised. It¡¯s been a very long time since a Lion King has worn the crown. Who knows what you may accomplish?¡±

    Lion King.

    Fourier had a love-hate relationship with that title. On the one hand, he respected his legendary ancestors who had borne it, indeed, he had looked up to them as his heroes during childhood.

    But on the other hand, they had stolen away Crusch¡¯s gaze, and Fourier wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d ever be able to steal it back, to surpass them in her eyes. A thoroughly petty reason, but a prince was allowed to be petty sometimes.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything worth being called ¡®Lion King¡¯ over,¡± Fourier said. ¡°After all it is the people around me who are amazing.¡±

    Miklotov gave him an odd look at those words, but he didn¡¯t pursue the subject further, allowing the conversation to drift to other matters of governance.

    But the words had left an impression on him, giving fresh fuel to a spark from Fourier¡¯s youth.

    I will become a Lion King. I¡¯ll reverse this economic disaster, and I¡¯ll root out the people that cursed my family. I swear it.

 Curse Breaking

    As his awareness slowly came trickling in, the first thing that struck Ferris was just how stiff he felt. He lifted his face from the book he had been sleeping on, and felt the faint traces of ink sticking to his skin.

    It took only a moment to heal himself of the minor issues sleeping on a desk had left him with. But it suddenly alerted his body to another issue. His stomach rumbled, and a dull hunger rose up in him.

    He could suppress it with his magic, but he knew from experience just how ruinous that would be. Healing magic could do many things, but it could not sustain someone long-term.

    With a sigh, he instead reached for an apple in the fruit basket Ram had provided him. It wasn¡¯t very fulfilling, but it allowed him to waste as little time as possible. The only times he ate proper meals anymore was when his teacher had the time to dine with him. The man insisted that many of their more theoretical lessons be accompanied by meals, something Ferris suspected was more for his sake than Roswaal¡¯s.

    Something he¡¯d admittedly reacted poorly to at first in retrospect.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think we¡¯d save more time, if we both ate by ourselves?¡± Ferris asked a slight scowl crossing his face, as he crossed his arms over his chest.

    ¡°You¡¯d be correct if this was something primarily physical, or even if it was a task I had assigned you.¡± Roswaal said in amusement as he mimicked Ferris¡¯s posture, causing the younger male to look away in embarrassment.

    ¡°What you must understand Sir Ferris, is that my duty here is primarily to teach you,¡± Roswaal said gently. ¡°To help you truly understand curses, so that in turn you will be able to better detect and destroy them. For such a task, it is important that the both of us be in top mental shape. Forgive me for saying so, but you strike me as similar to one I knew when I was young. He was the type to always forget meals so that he could study harder to impress his teacher.¡±

    Ferris coloured at this accurate assessment to his character and he looked away in embarrassment.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to always call me Sir Ferris, you know. If you''re going to be putting so much effort into teaching me you can just call me Ferris,¡± Ferris offered, honestly, a little overwhelmed at just how much effort Roswaal was putting into this.

    While he¡¯d been taught before, no teacher before Roswaal had ever put a fraction of this much effort into tutoring him, or even seemed to care much for him personally.

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I¡¯m not very used to speaking with others in such familiar terms¡­ but if you truly do not mind it, then I will welcome the opportunity to call you Ferris,¡± Roswaal said with a chuckle.

    ¡°Wonderful! And in that case, I¡¯ll call you by a nickname as well,¡± Ferris declared, an impish grin crossing his lips. ¡°But I guess I can¡¯t make it sound like I¡¯m mocking a Margrave¡¯s name, so I¡¯ll choose something reasonable. How does Teacher sound?¡±

    ¡°Teacher?¡± Roswaal asked, eyes going distant for a second. For a moment it appeared he was lost in another time, and then¡­

    ¡°Truly, I would be honoured to bear such a title from you, Ferris.¡±

    Sadly the opportunity for many of their more relaxed theoretical lessons were rare, as Roswaal needed to spent most of the time he was not engaging Ferris with more active lessons doing paperwork for his domain

    The manor they were staying at belonged to the Mathers family and was near the palace, although it had little distinguishing itself from any of the royal guest-houses.

    While to some, the manor may seem impressive, it was lacking compared to either the main Karsten Manor or the Palace where Ferris spent most of his time. One benefit of its smaller size was that Ferris often saw the Margrave attending to his duties, though Roswaal seemed to try and keep his activities limited to his office. Despite the manor¡¯s small size, Clind always seemed busy with the task of keeping it immaculate, while Ram stayed near Roswaal.

    Both Ram and Clind had offered to bring him more filling meals, but he disliked the idea of being interrupted in his studies, so he¡¯d declined. He¡¯d found that burying himself in research the way he learned fastest in the past, and that being interrupted with meals rarely helped.

    Ferris had always been a light eater after all, a remnant from his time in his family¡¯s ¡®care¡¯, where obtaining meals was rare.

    He took a moment to glance at the mirror, and immediately regretted it. His mind picked and pointed out the many things wrong with his appearance. The dishevelled hair, the ink still sticking to his face, the way his clothes wrinkled and even the vacancy in his eyes.

    Ferris was well aware of just how valuable a weapon his appearance was, and couldn¡¯t stop a hand from smoothing out the worst of the creases. Even beyond its use as a tool, Ferris took pride in his appearance, for it was one of the things he now had complete control over.

    He almost felt he should try to make himself look just a little better, but as soon as he lifted his hand, he felt an irrational guilt rise up inside him.

    I should be studying right now, if I want to avoid wasting Teacher¡¯s time!

    He jerked his hand back down and opened his book, trying to make sense of where he had left off. But despite reading the passage several times, the words failed to connect to anything. Rather than the method to break a curse, it felt as if he was memorising nonsense.

    He spent a good few minutes like that, before eventually sighing and getting to his feet.

    He threw the apple core he had been absently eating into the wastebasket, then formed droplets of water to clean his hands of the juices left behind.

    He stretched his arms, then picked up another book and sat back down. As he flicked through the pages looking for the page he wanted, he made a mental calculation of the next time he¡¯d see Fourier and Crusch.

    Crusch should be coming to check up on him in the next three days, and his next meeting with Fourier wasn¡¯t for another six.

    He¡¯d have to tidy up his appearance before then, he was fully aware of how much the two worried about him. Ferris had pleaded with Roswaal to keep his current state a secret from them, and the Court Mage had agreed on the stipulation that Ferris take care of himself.

    If Roswaal hadn¡¯t taken further steps yet, clearly his habits were sufficient. Or rather, his lack of them.

    Half of Ferris still wanted to drop what few remained as well, and focus entirely on trying to make some progress, any progress.

    But he knew that would be a fool¡¯s errand. He had been forcing himself to take mandatory breaks, but even if he cut them, what good would it do? When reading, he constantly found his mind drifting through the theory he¡¯d consumed. If he could barely focus when studying, that was a call to take more breaks, not less.

    But he couldn¡¯t bring himself to do that. He¡¯d found that when his mind was consumed with research, the guilt receded, and he felt more like himself again.

    What did it mean then, that it felt like he was getting progressively less useful information from the books he consumed each passing day. Sometimes it was all he could do to reread the passages he had already read, in the hopes that some new insight would form.

    It baffled him that he still couldn¡¯t detect and dispel even the simplest of curses yet, and worse yet that it felt like he was no closer to reaching that goal. Ferris was well aware of the natural well-spring of talent he possessed, after all, his father had hoped that he would be the one to complete a spell that could conquer death itself.

    Sometimes the memories of the research he had started back then swam before his eyes, taunting him with their simplicity. He had worked on the Sacrament for less than a single month before Fourier had convinced him to abandon it. Yet it had constantly felt as if he was on the verge of a breakthrough, every day leading to more insights and knowledge.

    Thump-Thump.

    The noise broke his train of thoughts, and Ferris''s ears twitched aimed towards the door.

    ¡°You may enter,¡± Ferris called out, recognizing who wanted entry from the knock alone. Even with his weariness, his hearing was sharp enough for that.

    ¡°Good morning, Sir Felix,¡± Ram said, and he heard her clothes rustle as she bowed.

    Though he had allowed the maid in, Ferris didn¡¯t bother to turn to face her, instead forcing his tired eyes to start from the beginning of the passage.

    ¡°Lord Roswaal will need to delay his lessons for another hour, as he has Clind helping him prepare a more advanced lesson today,¡± she continued.

    ¡°Ferri understands,¡± Ferris answered. ¡°I¡¯ll keep Teacher¡¯s schedule in mind.¡±

    Ram remained silent for a moment, then exhaled sharply, her displeasure evident. ¡°From your appearance, perhaps an hour of rest will be beneficial. A nap, perhaps? You¡¯ll need to be at your best to avoid wasting Lord Roswaal¡¯s time.¡±

    Ferris spun around, glaring at the maid, his body shaking with anger.

    ¡°I said I understand,¡± he hissed. ¡°Now leave. Ferri can¡¯t be wasting time with naps of all things! I understand that Teacher¡¯s time is valuable, but that just means I need to spend more time studying, not less.¡±

    Ram raised an eyebrow, the contempt never leaving her face, and she studied Ferris¡¯s shaking form.

    ¡°Is throwing a tantrum supposed to reassure me that you are well-rested?¡± Ram asked dryly. ¡°I was under the impression that Sir Ferris was supposed to be a Knight. One would hope that you understand manners normally, and although you refer to Lord Roswaal as your teacher, you fail to obey his instructions to take care of your health.¡±

    Ferris stood abruptly, his chair clattering behind him, his hand reaching towards the maid without thought. When he did realise what he was doing, he snatched it back to his chest.

    Was I really about to knock her out, just because she wants to prevent me from studying? For just an hour of study?

    Throughout it all, Ram¡¯s gaze never flickered or changed, not even as Ferris let his arm fall limply to his side.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to see that you aren¡¯t so far gone,¡± Ram said, her tone as calm as ever. ¡°Otherwise I would have to inform Lord Roswaal that your lessons were cancelled today.¡±

    Ferris found his eyes drawn down as he felt a light breeze press against his chest, and he saw that a wand was grasped in the maid¡¯s fist. He could feel a trace of mana swirling around the room, making it clear what would have happened if Ferris had decided to push his luck.

    ¡°Now then, after displaying just how much your lack of sleep is affecting your judgement, will you continue to deny the obvious Sir Ferris?¡± Ram said, her derision displayed through her eyes alone.

    ¡°Ferri¡­ can¡¯t sleep, unfortunately,¡± Ferris admitted reluctantly. ¡°When I try, my thoughts keep me awake. At least by studying I¡¯m being productive. And I do sleep every night, even if I¡¯m not spending as long as I should.¡±

    ¡°Sir Ferris appears to be the type that cannot consider other possibilities,¡± Ram said. ¡°One would expect as a healer that you would medicate yourself, if you proved unable to sleep.¡±

    Ferris couldn¡¯t resist a bitter laugh at that comment.

    ¡°Unfortunately, my magic automatically gets rid of drugs that affect me. Sorry to disappoint you, but you can¡¯t simply drug me unconscious with sleeping pills, even if I wanted you to.¡±

    ¡°What about alternative methods of inducing unconsciousness?¡± Ram asked with a dark smile crossing her lips.

    ¡°Knocking me out isn¡¯t going to work either. My mana would first need to be exhausted for it to be effective, and at that point it¡¯d be worthless unless I was somehow kept under for multiple days,¡± Ferris said, closing his tired eyes before taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it.

    ¡°I suppose if the more effective methods have been denied, Ram can lower herself to sing Sir Felix to sleep,¡± Ram said, allowing a more mocking tone to enter her voice.

    Ferris couldn¡¯t suppress an eye-twitch, but at Ram¡¯s glare, he obediently remained silent.

    ¡°You should consider yourself honoured Sir Ferris,¡± Ram said. ¡°The only other person I have ever sung to sleep is my younger sister Rem. If it wasn¡¯t so important to Lord Roswaal that you be at your best, I would simply watch you self-destruct instead.¡±

    Ferris stared at her in silence for a moment, but the maid appeared to be entirely serious.

    He couldn¡¯t help but doubt how effective a simple song would be, but he didn¡¯t really want to push her further than he had already.

    Her sharp eyes drove him over to the bed, and he lay down on top of the covers. They were much softer than he remembered. And now that he was laying down, he was hit by just how exhausted his body felt.

    But he still couldn¡¯t bear to sleep. There was so much he needed to do. So much he needed to learn.

    Ram cleared her throat, before starting to sing a soft lullaby.

    Ferris allowed the sound to wash over him, not even listening to the words. But they had an effect all the same. His breath started to settle, and his heartbeat began to slow. By the time she had finished the second verse, his drowsiness had overwhelmed him.

    <hr>

    Ferris woke to the smell of freshly cooked tatoes, his ever-present headache diminished but still present, his stomach grumbling and begging for food.

    ¡°You¡¯ll want to eat this before you go see Lord Roswaal,¡± Ram said. She was sitting at his desk, which it seemed she had cleaned while he slept. All his notes had been stacked neatly on the table, and the books had been placed back on their shelves.

    On that cleaned desk, she had placed a tray of food, including the steamed tatoes that were so often served in Roswaal¡¯s manor.

    ¡°It¡¯s been three hours since you took your nap, thanks to Ram¡¯s song. I¡¯ve informed Lord Roswaal about the development, and he was happy to schedule the lesson for later today, and has finished his preparations.¡±

    Ferris couldn¡¯t quite look Ram in the eyes, but forced himself to eat the food quickly, so that he could go find Roswaal.

    And also¡­

    ¡°...Thanks for the lullaby. It really helped a lot.¡± Ferris forced out, his embarrassment clear.

    ¡°Repay Ram, by taking better care of yourself so that you can give your best to Lord Roswaal,¡± Ram responded. She seemed content to let bygones be bygones, to which Ferris was grateful.

    After he finished wolfing down the food, Ram stood up, and walked towards the door. Ferris hurriedly grabbed a few of his books¡ªand more importantly, his carefully penned questions¡ªthen followed her.

    As they walked, he was tempted to open one of his books and revise a few last things, but instead, he found himself staring at Ram.

    Why did her lullaby put me to sleep? I tried everything I could think of, but that was what worked!? Only studying until I collapsed was having any effect until now.

    Unable to help himself, his thoughts went to what he knew about the maid, that could possibly explain it. But he found himself drawing a blank.

    Ferris hadn¡¯t made any effort to know the girl walking in front of him, and so he knew very little about her. All he did know was her name, her respect for Roswaal and the fact that she had a sister.

    On impulse, he decided to pull on one of those few threads.

    ¡°What¡¯s your sister like?¡±

    Ram glanced up at him, seemingly surprised that he¡¯d ask such a question, but she soon turned her head back up the corridor.

    ¡°She is Ram¡¯s sister, and so she is of course incredibly talented and beautiful,¡± she answered, the warmth evident in her voice. ¡°Rem is talented in anything she puts her mind to, as well as incredibly responsible. It is the primary reason she was left behind, in fact. Lord Roswaal trusts her with the primary upkeep of his family manor.¡±

    Ferris gave a slow nod, unable to fully hide his surprise at the deluge of information. The only two people he could think of that evoked that level of warmth from him were Fourier and Crusch, his two closest friends.

    The two that he wished he could call his family, rather than his true blood relatives.

    Before Ferris knew it, they arrived at the hallway leading to the room Roswaal had taken to use for teaching, where he saw Clind standing alone carrying a large object. It looked like a crate of some kind, but Ferris couldn¡¯t tell, as it was fully covered by a blanket.

    ¡°The delay has been noted,¡± Clind said, walking towards the classroom. ¡°Prepare yourself. The lesson today is distasteful. Unfortunate.¡±

    A sound like the scratch of nails on metal came from the object in the butler¡¯s hands, and Ferris stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out what was inside.

    But his curiosity could wait. He followed the man, and shut the door after they had entered the small room.

    The room was cosy, with small couches and a strange landscape painting, depicting a grassy meadow and hill. On top of that hill was a small table and parasol. He could even make out the tiny details of a teapot and cups laid out, but there was no one sitting at the table. Ferris had asked about it once, but Roswaal had cheerfully changed the subject.

    Ferris got the impression that it was a sensitive subject for him, so he had allowed the matter to drop.

    Roswaal sat beside two stacks of paper, one substantially smaller than the other.

    ¡°When Ram informed me that you were resting, I was plea~santly surprised, Ferris,¡± Roswaal said.

    Ferris was just thankful that either Ram hadn¡¯t told the man about the lullaby, or that Roswaal did not care to bring it up.

    ¡°Hopefully the rest will mean this lesson goes more smoothly than normal, I heard that today was going to be a special lesson Teacher?¡± Ferris asked.

    Roswaal nodded slowly. ¡°That is correct. I have hypothe~sised that a novel approach may help you make progress.¡±

    Ferris perked up, the news allowing him to push aside the persistent headache, to focus entirely on Roswaal.

    ¡°A nyovel approach? What is it?¡±

    Clind walked to the central table, placing the wrapped object down, and shifted so he stood opposite them.

    ¡°I believe it would be best to show you first,¡± Roswaal said, keeping his eyes locked on Ferris¡¯s. ¡°Clind, please bring out the ¡®test subject¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Such actions can wound the heart. Protest,¡± Clind said, but he still removed the blanket.

    Ferris couldn¡¯t help but tense. As the blanket began to lift he saw the glint of iron bars, revealing the object to be a cage. But it was a rather small cage for a human, meaning it could only contain a child.

    Yet, despite the potential evidence staring him in the face, and his own experience with¡­ such matters, he found that he was not afraid in the slightest. He could not help but doubt his initial thoughts.

    After all, surely there was no way Roswaal would ever do such a thing.

    He peered more closely, and as the blanket came off fully, his racing heart slowed. The darkness had receded, but it was not a child that it had revealed. A small, mangy kitten lay curled up on a blanket. It blinked in the sudden light, its body tense.

    In moments, Clind had unlocked the cage and pulled the kitten carefully out of the cage, letting Ferris get a better look at it. The creature was small enough that he¡¯d likely be able to lift it with one hand despite his stature, and looked to be underweight, its bones visible under its skin, its ginger fur thinner than Ferris thought was healthy.

    The kitten''s eyes darted around in the open daylight, before it shivered and pressed itself against Clind trying to make itself appear smaller.

    ¡°I requested Clind to find me a stray that seemed as if it would pe~rish soon. We have provided it with some food to give it more strength,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°While you have failed to properly de~tect any curse, you have shown some awareness of the more powerful curses I have used. Likely because such curses must by na~ture interfere with the body more.¡±

    Roswaal paused, seemingly to gauge Ferris'' understanding.

    Ferris nodded. It was something he had begun to suspect himself. When Roswaal had used curses more powerful than simple paralysis, it felt like there was a shadow cast over the internals of his body.

    But so far, Ferris had only been able to see that shadow, and not the curse itself.

    ¡°I have been expo~sing myself to relatively minor curses so far, due to the risk even a moderate curse can do to a body after its defences have been lowered,¡± Roswaal continued. ¡°Today, however, I will show you a significantly more po~werful curse, one that should be very familiar to you.¡±

    Ferris blinked and met Roswaal¡¯s eyes. ¡°Does that mean¡­?¡±

    Roswaal nodded. ¡°I have done my best to replicate the very same curse that had been placed on the Royal Family. While it is no doubt an imperfect replica, I believe it would be useful for you to study it.¡±

    Roswaal gestured to Clind, who handed him a knife. The butler¡¯s quiet sigh was barely audible to Ferris¡¯s enhanced senses.

    ¡°Normally I would be hesitant to use such a powerful curse due to the price, but with Sir Ferris here, that will be far easier to deal with.¡±

    Roswaal rolled up a sleeve, revealing his pale wrinkled skin, and he pressed the knife against himself. Blood immediately started to ooze from the wound, and Ferris instinctively readied his healing magic. But before he could lift a hand to heal, Clind stepped into his path.

    ¡°My apologies, Ferris,¡± Roswaal said, placing the knife down on the table, not taking his eyes off his wound for a moment. ¡°While you may have intellectually known the price of a more powerful curse, perhaps I should have warned you.¡±

    Ferris could feel a slight disturbance in the air, the mark of mana moving in his vicinity. With how intently Roswaal was focusing on his bloodied arm, it was clear who the caster was.

    Roswaal muttered a quick few words under his breath, too quietly for Ferris to pick up on. Then he dipped the fingers of his other hand into the pool of blood on his arm, and spread it over the kitten''s fur, dyeing the sickly yellow fur a deep crimson.

    Ferris paled, feeling an odd sickness beginning to rise in his gut, despite the fact that the kitten did not seem to be any worse for wear yet.

    Roswaal finished spreading the blood, and then lifted his cut arm.

    To his embarrassment, Ferris took a moment to realise what he was supposed to do. Now that the casting was over, he could safely heal Roswaal.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    He conjured his orb of blue light, and pressed it against the cut. He was relieved to see it close easily, although he was aware that it would take a longer session to restore the blood that had been lost.

    When he was finished, Roswaal pulled his arm back to continue the lesson.

    ¡°Now, I have pla~ced the trigger of the curse inside the stray¡¯s body, it will take effect in minutes. Please prepare yourself to observe it,¡± Roswaal said. Clind stepped forward to retrieve the now-bloody knife, whipping out a rag to clean it with.

    Ferris swallowed but nodded, praying that this new method might see some results. Placing a hand on the terrified creature, he focused his energy on the creature to establish a baseline.

    While he had rarely examined animals, the kitten reminded him of the few times he¡¯d treated members of the slums. Its immune system was busy trying to fight off its illness, even as he noticed an infected paw, and long term starvation. Without care, there was little doubt that it wasn¡¯t long for this world.

    Ferris hoped that this training method would yield results quickly, while he wasn¡¯t fond of cats, he still didn¡¯t want to see one in pain, something he might have to see often if this exercise didn¡¯t produce results.

    Once Ferris was ready, Roswaal snapped his fingers.

    The kitten yowled, body stiffening completely as it fell limp. All at once, a dozen different injuries and problems attacked its body. Ferris instinctively pushed his magic into it to seal the wounds, then forced himself to calm down. He closed his eyes and focused entirely on the information his magic was feeding him.

    Ruptured organs were the most dangerous, so his magic crept in to stop the damage. It was a feat that even many healers would struggle with, but with the amount of experience Ferris had it should have been easy. However as the damage healed, he noticed the sluggishness as well as the familiar feeling of his magic being repelled.

    ¡°Ferris, if I die, please take care of yourself.¡±

    Not again. Please no!

    Healing magic was a delicate art. It required deep concentration to take in all the information the magic relayed, and a level of control necessary to prevent the internal mana of the patient from mixing into the Healer¡¯s own.

    But Ferris was weary, and focused entirely on trying to see the curse, disregarding the usual safety practices he observed.

    His control slipped.

    And in that moment, Ferris forgot that he was just treating a simple animal. He was thrust back into the past, where he was the only one who could possibly keep Fourier alive for another day. Adrenaline pumped into him, and he reached for more magic than he¡¯d spent in days, forcing it in a steady stream.

    The curse reacted to the interference, strengthening its hold in spite of the mana that flooded through the body. He was desperately treating the symptoms, but the cause eluded him. It taunted him.

    Ferris could feel the world around him fade away, as the pressure against his gate increased. He¡¯d never thrown away so much mana in one go before, as enough mana could overpower a person¡¯s innate resistance, and be as destructive to a living one as a dead one.

    Yet, his instincts screamed that if he held back at all, it would just lead to Fourier¡¯s death. So even as the pull became painful, he pushed harder, his senses fading, as he retreated from the world itself.

    For a brief, precious moment, he simply existed in a state of nothingness, residing only within his Od. He felt his gate connect to the gate of his patient.

    And then he saw it.

    It was a tar, the colour of freshly spilt blood; a spider, sitting in a web of illness and suffering; a malevolent entity intent on strangling the very Od that composed the patient¡¯s soul.

    Tentacles of crimson ooze snaked around the internal organs, causing mayhem wherever it touched, wrecking what they could with reckless abandon.

    Seen like this, Ferris wondered how he had ever struggled to detect such a disgusting and wretched sight.

    At that moment, all he could think of was its destruction, and his mana reacted to the wish, reaching out to strike at the curse itself.

    That action was a mistake.

    Dropped into a new scenario, it was natural he would default to his instincts, and a curse as foul as the one before him would always disgust a healer.

    Yet, while Roswaal had walked him through the basics of destroying simple curses, designed solely to hinder, this was far from anything so benign. For before him was a pollution that blood and power had been shed to create.

    His wave of mana did nothing against it.

    Its counter did far more against him.

    A spear of crimson shot out to meet him, wounding him and throwing him back to his own Od.

    Such a small thing would never stop Ferris, but as he prepared to return, he saw that the strike had done far more than just throw him.

    His own Od, once a clear source of mana, had now started pulsating with the same colour of the taint, and he felt it as it started to injure him as well.

    There was a moment where he knew that he could withdraw, and cleanse the rot before it grew.

    It would mean retreating from this battlefield though, and allowing the person he cherished most to die.

    Instead, he called upon his knowledge, the books he had spent so long memorising, rereading, and failing to understand. He wove his mana together into a weapon, a sword of brilliant blue, and he struck out once more against the source of the curse. This time, he saw it recoil as a portion of it fell away.

    Ferris could feel its rage, and it redoubled its effort against him. Spears the colour of blood impaled him, and whips of ooze lashed out to surround him. He tried to blunt the attacks, but his mana wasn¡¯t up to the task. He did not have the necessary techniques to protect himself, nor did he have the capacity to finish his enemy off. As his senses began to fade, the curse growing to consume his own soul, he felt strangely content.

    An ending such as this felt fitting for one such as him.

    Yet, as if to spite such a thought, a blinding light illuminated his world, severing the tentacles of suffering, and bolts of pure darkness fell upon the heart of the curse itself.

    The curse reacted instantly, pulling back from its assault on Ferris to try and lash out at this new enemy. But every move it made was rebuffed by the light, and every defence it mustered was crushed by the darkness.

    Then the light and darkness began swirling together, forming a maelstrom with the crimson heart of the curse at its centre. The curse tried to resist, but it was trapped between the two opposing forces, and was ground to dust between them.

    Ferris felt his awareness slipping away. A battle for his soul had taken place, and it would be understandable if he drifted into the embrace of sleep to recover.

    But he refused to do so. He could sense that his Od had diminished, but forced that feeling aside to bring his attention back to the gate he was still connected to.

    He poured his mana through that connection, and he saw that their battle had caused dozens of the body¡¯s systems to start to fade, and his mana rushed to fix them all and delay the death that the curse had sought.

    It took time, but he managed to fix the worst of the damages before he felt his connection to his Od fade, and as the sounds of the world slowly started to reach him once more.

    Blinking open his eyes, he looked around slowly.

    Clind was bandaging Roswaal''s left arm, and giving the man a cross look, as Ferris realised that he was covered in blood. His sense of smell told him that it was the same blood covering the kitten, slumped against him.

    ¡°What happened, Teacher?¡± Ferris forced out, exhaustion slurring the words, even as he attempted to lurch forward.

    Clind lightly pressed against his chest forcing him back to the ground, at a gesture from Roswaal.

    ¡°We~ll, the reason you are covered in blood is that I needed to break the curse quickly,¡± Roswaal explained. ¡°I failed to foresee that you would not only perceive the curse, but also attempt to break it in the same session. As a resu~lt, the curse reacted just as the one performed on the Royal Family would¡ª¡±

    Then a hand clapped onto his shoulder, and Clind held a goblet of water up to Roswaal¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Cease speaking and drink this. Order,¡± Clind said, the butler¡¯s annoyance clear from his tone. ¡°You¡¯ve lost far too much blood. Recklessness.¡±

    Roswaal ignored his butler''s rudeness, merely taking the proffered cup and sipping it absentmindedly. His eyes were focused on Ferris¡¯s own, seemingly deep in thought.

    Then, after a moment, he spoke.

    ¡°Clind, can you prepa~re our meals early today?¡± he asked. ¡°Our active lessons are do~ne for the day. Both Ferris and I will need to retire to rest, after our meal.¡±

    Clind paused in his fussing, staring at Roswaal intently. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again and gave a single nod. He departed from the room, leaving the two alone.

    For a few moments the two sat in silence, Roswaal¡¯s dual-coloured eyes piercing through Ferris.

    ¡°I will not atte~mpt to sugar-coat this. You have strai~ned your gate, Ferris,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°While no permanent damage was done, any normal mage would require months to re~cover. For a water mage such as yourself, I suspect that time will be shortened.¡±

    He paused.

    ¡°The worst of the strain happened after I destro~yed the curse, as you seemed determined to keep the test subject alive even after all that damage, something I thought impossible.¡±

    Ferris closed his eyes, it was embarrassing to hear that he¡¯d over-reacted so badly and damaged his gate. He¡¯d always looked down on people reckless enough, to cause such damage to themselves.

    Thankfully, healing himself has always been easier than healing others. For a Water Mage as skilled as him, reconstructing his entire body would be feasible, and something he could do in minutes.

    While his gate was by far the most difficult, being partly spiritual rather than entirely biological, he felt he should be able to reverse the damages in under a week.

    Opening his eyes, Ferris allowed eyes to drift to look at the life he had saved, wondering how he¡¯d mistaken the small kitten for Fourier of all things.

    A small smile crept on his lips at what the man himself would think of it.

    Well, a cat is still in the same general family as a lion, even if it is a baby.

    He leaned forward to run his hands through its fur, and the kitten mewled in response. His healing had pulled it from the jaws of death, and where once it had been destined to die in days, it would now have the rest of its life. Studying it, he saw how its eyes focused on his, and slowly reached out to pet its fur, noting how even the fur¡¯s lustre had changed, and how it now wore a pelt of gold.

    It even kind of looks like a tiny lion. I should show it to Fourier and Crusch. Maybe Fourier will want to keep it.

    It would be nice to speak to the two of them with joviality again, the way they had before Fourier had been cursed.

    Slowly the brittle smile faded, as the truth he¡¯d been denying came rushing back.

    The reason behind everything.

    He had treated Fourier for months, had attempted anything he could to heal him, and had done nothing but repeatedly fail.

    Intellectually, he was aware that he¡¯d been going at it from the wrong angle, but that simply meant that he desperately needed this knowledge so that he could stop it from happening next time.

    Roswaal cleared his throat, and Ferris snapped out of his reminiscences, looking over at the mage.

    ¡°Today you ma~naged to see for yourself your first curse,¡± he said, ¡°and while it was a more dramatic scenario than I had planned, I¡¯d say that after you recover we should be able to take the next step in dispelling simple ones.¡±

    Ferris couldn¡¯t stop the chuckle from forming, as he pressed a hand to his face to hide the tears that were forming.

    Today had let him actually damage the curse that would have taken Fourier, perhaps not in a truly meaningful way, but it was progress.

    The exhaustion he felt weighed down on him, yet he also felt as if the burden had been lightened as well.

    <hr>

    Scritch, scratch.

    The sounds of writing echoed in the otherwise silent room.

    It was an administrative office Crusch had claimed as her own over the past month. While her position as Captain of Public Safety allowed her access to the traditional offices of the post, she felt it would be disrespectful to the dead to move in so soon.

    She made it a point to spend at least a few hours in her office each day, so that she could go through the reports the Knights and guards had made, and write out new orders to follow up on leads and requisition guard patrols to support her actions.

    Unfortunately, despite the myriad resources spent, she wasn¡¯t any closer to an answer regarding either the source of the curse, or the murderous insects.

    Releasing a slow breath, Crusch laid down her pen and massaged her temples.

    They hadn¡¯t discovered any new leads, but not for a lack of trying. In her time as Captain of Public Safety, she¡¯d found and stopped a number of unrelated crimes, all uncovered by her relentlessly investigating even the slightest trace of wrongdoing.

    Suspicious clandestine meetings in the lower city had turned out to be a normal gang, a shadowy figure sneaking around the rooftops had turned out to be an ordinary¡ªif notorious¡ªthief, and strange rumours of the court had been traced back to a knight with a love of ale and a lack of sense.

    Her most notable achievement occurred when she audited the finances of the spy that had been murdered in his cell. After going down a rabbit hole of searching through his dealings for anything that could clue her into who he could possibly have been working for, she had stumbled upon a series of numbers that didn¡¯t add up, and discovered an unrelated ring of civil officials who had been embezzling the kingdom¡¯s funds.

    Russel Fellow had taken over that case rather quickly, and she hadn¡¯t yet heard what had happened to the unfortunate criminals. The Treasurer was reputedly tough on those who jeopardised the kingdom¡¯s finances, so she didn¡¯t think they would be causing any more trouble.

    She had asked to be involved if Russel¡¯s further investigations turned up more leads, but in her heart, Crusch knew that it too was an unrelated dead end.

    All those incidents had been resolved, and yet more popped up daily. Crusch was making great strides in reducing crime in the city, but her leads for her primary mission had gone ice cold.

    The reports that she poured through were undoubtedly useful and had already proven their value.

    Yet, Crusch couldn¡¯t help but grit her teeth at the thought that after all this time, no new information had surfaced.

    She sighed, and opened a drawer in her desk, pulling out a worn stack of papers.

    She had read and reread them so many times that she could practically recite them off by heart, and yet she kept coming back to them, searching for some clue, searching for something. There had to be something she had missed, something that would make everything else make sense.

    She laid down the documents, and eyed the top of the page for what felt like the hundredth time.

    ¡®Collected documents of Mikkel Meyer¡¯

    She herself had written those words, indeed, she had written a large portion of the notes surrounding each of the documents the collection contained.

    Mikkel was the name of the spy that had been assassinated in his cell. Crusch had investigated his background while he was unconscious, but after his death, she had scoured the kingdom¡¯s records for everything she could about the man, in some vain hope of finding a lead.

    She started flicking through the pages, eyes alighting on the same points they always did, reading the occasional note she had written to investigate further, then crossed out once it turned up nothing.

    He was a civil official who worked in the palace, but not in any major capacity. He was involved in keeping order in the capital, namely helping draft notices for the city and keeping the administration running.

    The other civil officials he worked with had described him as hard-working, and were unanimously sad to hear about his death.

    Crusch turned to the collections of transcripts of the interviews she had conducted with those co-workers. An aide had been writing everything down while Crusch interrogated Mikkel¡¯s closest co-workers, and she had added in notes for the emotions she detected afterwards.

    Not a single person had felt anything other than sadness and grief. On the few instances she had brought up the fact that he was a spy, they had responded with indignation and disbelief. Mikkel had never even hinted at his true loyalties.

    She flipped to the next section of the documents, that of his family.

    The Meyer family was a regional nobility based in the north, but Mikkel was part of a branch family that had moved to the capital decades ago. Her investigation revealed that he hadn¡¯t been in contact with the main family for at least ten years, and probably never met them in person.

    His immediate family wasn¡¯t any better, he had no siblings, and his parents had died of illness, five years apart. His aunt and uncle still survived, but they had only occasional contact with him. They described him as a reserved person, and had been upset when Crusch had broken the news. She had lightly prodded the couple about anyone he might have been working with, but they too had no idea that he had been spying on the kingdom. Crusch hadn¡¯t had the heart to tell them the full story.

    The next section included some of the documents that he wrote, dry reports on the state of the city, and recommendations for review. Nothing in them stood out to her.

    This continued for the entire report. He so perfectly played the role of an ordinary person that there were times Crusch somehow doubted that he had done anything wrong.

    And yet, he had tried to spy on Fourier, and he had attacked her on sight.

    That was not something an innocent man would do.

    But there was not one trace of his guilt in Crusch¡¯s documents. He had no ties to any foreign kingdoms, no loyalties to anything but the kingdom, and no vices he could be controlled with.

    He reportedly was close friends with a merchant in the capital, but Crusch had interviewed him too, and discovered nothing. He was a follower of the Church of the Divine Dragon, but barely ever attended sermons, basically only showing up for important events. He had saved up quite a bit of money, so it was unlikely the promise riches would tempt him.

    Nothing about his betrayal added up.

    Footsteps approached her door, but she paid no attention to it. There were many reasons for someone to be walking the section of the palace her office was in, and she felt no need to spare the effort of keeping track of everyone.

    That changed when the person stopped and knocked, the sound echoing through the silent room.

    ¡°Enter,¡± she called out, but the door was already opening. A breach of protocol, but not one Crusch cared about. If they felt it was urgent, Crusch fully approved of the disregard.

    The man that entered had a stern face that seemed permanently etched in a slight frown, with long prematurely greying hair that enhanced the sharp looks he was fond of throwing out. His heavy armour made deceptively light thuds, as the man strode forwards, a thick stack of papers carefully balanced in his arms.

    Lucius Reiter may not have been Karsten¡¯s strongest soldier, but he was easily one of the wisest, having served as their commander for more than a decade. Even if he now bore little resemblance to the smiling young man that had first taken that position.

    The man spent the majority of his time in the field, but she still knew the man well enough that the man¡¯s dull eyes alarmed her, even without the Wind storming around him.

    ¡°Lady Crusch,¡± he began, ¡°you asked to be alerted if we discovered anything unusual.¡±

    She nodded, gesturing for Lucius to go on.

    ¡°An atrocity far worse than normal has occurred in the slums,¡± Lucas began. ¡°The description in the report closely matches that of the incident in the palace cells. Notably, a swarm of bugs was said to be consuming the corpse when it was discovered.¡±

    Crusch felt her heartbeat pick up at his words.

    Could this be what I¡¯ve been waiting for?

    She stood upright, and snatched up her sword.

    ¡°Lead me there now,¡± she ordered.

    <hr>

    The sun beat down on them as their procession marched through the slums, as the six of them marched towards their destination.

    Crusch marched at the head of the formation, a hand on her blade as Lucius flanked her, and his four soldiers followed in a synchronised formation.

    She was confident in her abilities, so she was doubtful that they would be needed, but on the off chance the curse user decided to try and attack her while she was in the city, she wanted to have adequate strength to capture them.

    Crusch had never been down to the slum district before, and examined the area critically as they moved.

    The houses were dilapidated, with her eyes spotting many signs of damage. She could make out the flows of air suffusing the buildings, all of them far draughtier than she was familiar with.

    But the majority of the damage she saw was more cosmetic than structural, meaning that they were likely safe to live in for now.

    Not many of the reports she¡¯d read dealt with this district, which made her wonder about finding a body here.

    Did it mean that the culprit had been hiding in the slums? Or had they deliberately left behind the body here to throw the kingdom off their trail?

    As she marched forwards, she observed the residents of the slums watching their procession from a distance, many closing their windows and hiding deeper in the maze of buildings.

    She¡¯d seen similar actions from isolated villages before, as it was common to fear outsiders, especially those clad in armour. Bandits prayed on those who could not protect themselves.

    But this was the capital of Lugunica. The residents should be aware that any large group was composed of knights, not bandits.

    Yet despite that knowledge, she could see the residents of this district had no trust for their group. Their emotions flowed together, screaming wariness and fear to her eyes.

    Crusch kept her gait steady, and her eyes sharp, ignoring a seed of doubt that had planted itself in her heart.

    What happened to these people, that they equate soldiers and outlaws?

    It was a troubling question, but not one she had time to dwell on.

    Before long they arrived at the body.

    A set of two guards were already there, guarding the corpse and warding away civilians. Not that any wanted to approach. The smell that assaulted Crusch¡¯s senses was even worse than it had been in the cell, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the guards.

    The sun had allowed the decomposition to progress even faster, but even from a distance it was clear that the body had been desecrated in the same way the prior victim had.

    ¡°Have you sent for Lord Mueller yet?¡± Crusch inquired as they drew nearer. ¡°We may require his expertise to examine the body.¡±

    ¡°We have, Lady Crusch,¡± Lucius confirmed, face steady even as the others'' faces twisted into disgust. ¡°I have also dispatched a messenger to summon a Healer to examine the body as well.¡±

    ¡°What of the victim?¡± she asked.

    ¡°There is little noteworthy information, but considering where the body was found perhaps we should not be surprised.¡± Lucius said eyes not leaving the corpse. ¡°Our only leads on the body come from members of the slums who claim it was a family member, who lived there her whole life. She had no connections to nobility, nor did her family members, if we are being told the truth.¡±

    Crusch nodded, frowning.

    Assuming that the body is truly a commoner, what does that tell us?

    She pondered for a few seconds, her eyes idly tracing the scene of the murder. Bones were exposed through the savaged flesh, and blood pooled around the mound of remains.

    It means¡­ perhaps she stumbled onto something she should not have, and was eliminated? Or perhaps that¡¯s what they want us to think, and this body was intended to be found, to lead us off track?

    ¡°Have you made inquiries to the surrounding civilians beyond the corpses identity?¡± Crusch questioned, eyebrows furrowing. ¡°Who found the body? Did anyone hear anything? Who last saw her alive?¡±

    Lucius nodded slightly. ¡°Guards have been dispatched to learn those pieces of information, but¡­¡±

    He trailed off. From the flow of his emotions, Crusch suspected he was trying to decide how to phrase his next words.

    ¡°Permission to speak freely Lady Crusch?¡± Lucius requested his face carefully neutral.

    ¡°Granted,¡± Crusch said, feeling a touch of surprise, but considering that Lucius would be more used to reporting to her Father, such a request made sense.

    ¡°The people out here barely consider themselves part of our Kingdom,¡± he said. ¡°Relying completely on their answers would be a mistake, considering that many of them outright resent outsiders. The largest reason we were able to gather the information we currently possess is thanks to bribery and the fact that the Karsten Soldiers represent a new group. While it is still potentially worth delegating to the guards, it is unlikely that they will be able to gather information even with a monetary reward.¡±

    Crusch sighed. Another obstacle. But I can¡¯t give up a lead this fresh.

    ¡°Send two of this squad to help with the inquiries,¡± she ordered, ¡°and under my authority, grant them increased access to discretionary funds to help persuade tongues to loosen. This information could be critical.¡±

    ¡°Right away,¡± Lucius confirmed, lowering into a half bow before he moved to command his soldiers.

    Of course, this could just be another dead end, Crusch thought. With how things have been going, perhaps this is another unrelated event, and this new killing technique has other practitioners, not aligned with our enemy.

    She frowned.

    If the original one is even aligned with the curse user in the first place. We still don¡¯t have any confirmation on that.

    She glanced up at the sky, the grey clouds obscuring the sun and vibrant blue sky. Her eyes traced the winds, all of which were flowing in thick streams, clashing and mixing overhead.

    It was a weather pattern she was familiar with.

    It¡¯s going to rain, she concluded, then sighed and looked back down at the remains. It had been ripped apart to such an extent that even a little water would probably wash it away.

    I¡¯ll have to get the guards to fetch a tent.

    <hr>

    The next few days were a whirlwind of activity, as multiple murders happened in quick succession. All of them were commoners in the slum districts, who had been killed by insects and bugs.

    Worse yet, the corpses were always left in public areas, out of the way enough that no one saw them taking place, but exposed enough that the commoners found them quickly.

    Even with the plethora of cases, Crusch wasn¡¯t any closer to tracking down the killer, and in fact, now she had to deal with a more pressing issue.

    Panic had started to take root among the civilians of the entire city. Every day that went by, the residents of the slums grew rowdier and more fearful. The majority of the nobility didn¡¯t see any major difference, the slums were always a lawless region. But the air held a tension that it hadn¡¯t before, and Crusch couldn¡¯t say what would happen if it was allowed to reach a boiling point.

    The past few days had been unrelenting chaos in the slums, the infighting between gangs had skyrocketed, among other crimes, along with many seeking to leave the slums and hide amongst the rest of the capital.

    Perhaps that had been their enemy¡¯s goal with the murders all along.

    They had certainly set things up to stoke as much fear as possible.

    It wasn¡¯t simply the murders themselves that triggered the chaos, from what she had read, the slums had a fairly high death rate compared to the rest of the capital. Enough so, that the deaths normally wouldn¡¯t have stood out from the rest.

    Had they died in any other way, under any other circumstances, they would simply have been a few more lives lost to the slums. But the horrifying method, coupled with the uncharacteristically thorough response from the guards and knights, had set the residents on edge.

    Crusch was an experienced commander, and had fought in several battlefields. The sight of a corpse was not an unfamiliar one, but even she had to admit that being consumed by insects was horrifying.

    The members of the slums were not soldiers and could not be reasonably expected to handle such gruesome details unaffected.

    Usually dispatching guards on additional patrols through the region would be enough to bring some amount of calm. Their presence would be a calming eye, reassuring the citizens that they were working to ensure safety.

    In the slums, the guards were having the opposite effect. The residents¡¯ only experience with the guards was the occasional search party looking for criminals trying to lay low. The relationship between the two was mostly antagonistic.

    Now, the guards had started a military crackdown, beginning to occupy the slums. They were there for safety, but to a slum resident? It looked like they were biding their time to drive them from the city.

    Crusch was doing all she could to keep the situation under control. In addition to managing the increased guard patrols through the district, she had ordered contingents of soldiers from her own house to take part in patrols, and set up camps where they could quickly dispatch to address incidents.

    The main reasoning being that they were better trained, and thus, more likely to catch the culprit, but it had an important secondary benefit. Her soldiers weren¡¯t trusted, but they didn¡¯t have as negative a reputation as the guards did.

    The guards¡¯ presence had exacerbated the commoners¡¯ fears, but pulling them out now without making an effort to replace them would be an even worse mistake.

    It wasn''t hyperbole to say that it was only their presence that stopped a full scale riot from forming.

    Crusch needed to figure out how to stop the escalating tension as quickly as possible.

    She had been neglecting other aspects of her duties trying to resolve the slums, but she had finally reached a task that she did not feel she could put off.

    She sighed as she placed down the latest report, and leaned back in her chair, debating what she should do.

    ¡®Visit Ferris¡¯ was listed at the top of her priorities, a task that she usually performed once a week. Her attendant had become so consumed with breaking curses, that he failed to take care of himself at all.

    Should I delay it?

    She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. How urgently did she need to attend to the slums? Would her presence help settle them down?

    No. There¡¯s always going to be work to do there, but it¡¯s work that would be better left to subordinates.

    It would have been easy to put the case above Ferris¡¯s needs, but it would have been the same mistake Ferris made by prioritising breaking curses over his own.

    This case was not a sprint, but a marathon. Crusch knew that the both of them needed to pace themselves in order to not completely burn out.

    She stretched her arms above her head, and then reached for another document.

    Perhaps I¡¯ll ask him to take a look at one of the bodies as well. The Healers couldn¡¯t find anything unusual, but they aren¡¯t Ferris. If there¡¯s anything still hidden in them, he¡¯ll be able to find it.

 Insects and Intrigue

    Standing at the bathroom mirror, Ferris studied his reflection carefully, giving it a cheerful smile. A few days of rest had done wonders for his complexion, and his makeup would cover what little signs of tiredness remained.

    Only a touch more now, he thought, dabbing around his eyes.

    In the three days since Ferris had detected a curse for the first time, he¡¯d spent more time asleep than in the entire week prior. When he wasn¡¯t resting, it felt like he was always eating something, as Ram and Clind piled him with food to make up for the weight he¡¯d lost. Now, the last month of overwork and weariness almost seemed like a bad dream.

    His gate had mostly recovered from the strain he had put it under, though Roswaal was unlikely to restart their lessons until it had completely healed.

    But that was fine. Ferris suspected that if he kept up his current routine, he¡¯d be fully recovered in another few days, just in time for his meeting with Fourier.

    Sadly, he could not say the same for his meeting with Crusch, which was less than an hour away.

    Ferris examined himself again with a careful eye, trying to judge if he was presentable enough for seeing his liege.

    Ample sleep, food, new clothes, and some light makeup ensured that he looked well rested, but that was not the most important detail he had to keep in mind. Most importantly of all, Ferris had to get his smile right.

    Crusch was an expert at seeing through masks, so rather than attempt to hide his emotions, he should instead project what he wanted her to see.

    He tried to make his smile more natural, to soften the hard edges of his face. Then he allowed his memories of damaging the curse to bubble up to the surface.

    The smile on the mirror morphed into a manic grin, and a wildness appeared in his eyes, as if the reflection was a madman who had abandoned all pretence of sanity.

    Better keep that under wraps, Ferris concluded, clamping down on those feelings. It wasn¡¯t a smile that he¡¯d ever show in polite conversation, nor did he ever want his friends to catch a glimpse of it.

    There was a possibility that Crusch would be happy he was doing better¡­ but it seemed more likely that she would become even more concerned.

    I would be the same if I saw that smile on her or Fourier, Ferris thought. And besides, that¡¯s not a cute face at all.

    Thankfully, disguising triumph and manic energy was much easier than disguising weariness and frustration. He should be able to play off any of his strangeness as lingering effects of his lack of sleep.

    He tapped at his face a bit more, but adding more make-up wasn¡¯t going to change anything. He already looked fine, and more would only make it look like he was trying to hide something.

    He twirled and walked away from the mirror, resolutely not giving it a second glance. He had a meeting to attend to.

    <hr>

    Ferris sat curled up on the couch, cradling an open book in his hands.

    He was waiting in the manor¡¯s lounge, the place he usually met with Crusch for their weekly meetings.

    He had come down from his room a bit early, and was now waiting with little to occupy his time. He wished he could have waited at the front door for Crusch¡¯s arrival, but he had no doubt that Crusch would be annoyed with him if he neglected his rest to stand waiting for her.

    Thus, he sat, leaving the task of letting his liege enter to Ram, idly flipping the pages of his book.

    He didn¡¯t exactly have anything better to do. Roswaal had departed on business, likely to meet with Fourier and report to him, while checking for traces of curses among the palace staff. Clind had gone with him, and Ram was busy with her work, so Ferris was left alone with only his thoughts and books for company.

    In addition, the act of reading was¡ªin his opinion¡ªa rather clever calculation on his part. He had brought one of the lighter volumes with him to read over while he waited, a simple tome that described the method of creating magic that could destroy curses with healing magic. It was the same method he had used to wound the curse in his fight.

    Though he had planned to appear to read it to show Crusch that he was doing alright, he soon found himself engrossed in its words. The things it described that hadn¡¯t made sense before he sensed the curse were suddenly as clear as day. He had barely fought at all, but he could still intuit the ways the curse might have reacted to different spells, and could now see the value in those analysis spells that had evaded his understanding.

    Perhaps if he had approached the curse in this way, or had used this shield here, or had tried to analyse before striking, he could have destroyed the curse all on his own.

    He was so deep in thought that he almost missed the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

    Once they did register, he snapped his head up, then hurriedly closed the book and laid it down, sitting up straight and unruffling the creases in his clothing. He was supposed to be reassuring Crusch, not proving that he was just as overworked as before!

    Satisfied with his appearance, he darted forward and pulled the door open, just in time to see Crusch raising a hand to knock.

    How striking.

    Crusch¡¯s eyes blazed, the resolve she was so well known for ignited as she approached him, but as he met her eyes another thought occurred.

    She¡¯s exhausted.

    Crusch was inspiring to be around, and while he¡¯d rarely needed to see it, skilled at hiding her emotions. It was only thanks to the countless hours he¡¯d spent beside her that he could tell. There was a slight hesitation to her steps, as if she were holding herself still, and when she sat down on the couch, she forgot to properly adopt her usual refined posture.

    ¡°Lady Crusch, it¡¯s so good to see you in good health,¡± Ferris said, bowing to greet her.

    Crusch said nothing, observing him closely for a moment, her eyes tracing the creases in his dress. Then she smiled.

    ¡°I am glad that I can finally say the same of you,¡± she answered. ¡°It is good to see you, Ferris.¡±

    He sat down beside her, curling his legs up so he could face her directly.

    ¡°I¡¯ve made progress in my studies, which has helped greatly with my stress,¡± he said, allowing his voice to take on a slightly sheepish tone. ¡°I have perhaps neglected myself a little too much up till now, but now I¡¯m back on track. Once I get a little more rest, I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Crusch gave him a frown, with a look in her eye that told him she didn¡¯t believe for a second that he would be taking that rest if he wasn¡¯t being forced to.

    Seeing that, Ferris decided to hurriedly move onto the next topic before she could start interrogating him. ¡°May I ask how your own task is going?¡±

    Crusch hesitated, but then her eyes flicked to his book on the table, and she let out a quiet sigh.

    ¡°I¡¯ve caused you to worry about me, haven¡¯t I?¡± she asked. ¡°Even though you¡¯re so tired yourself. Perhaps I could leave that until¡ª¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t caused me to worry at all,¡± Ferris interjected. It was the truth, but not entirely the whole truth. He did worry about his liege, but that was nothing new. He always was concerned for her, and put her needs above his own.

    So technically, she hadn¡¯t caused it.

    Now, given that Crusch detected lies by seeing the swirl of someone¡¯s emotions, such a little trick as speaking technical half-truths would not usually be enough to get past her. But Ferris was an expert in lying to his liege. So long as he believed his half-truths, he could lead her line of thought astray.

    He¡¯d almost feel guilty about it, but it had to be done. He needed her to open up enough that she¡¯d confide in him about whatever was troubling her.

    ¡°I¡¯ve found a lead on a potential suspect, which has helped direct our investigation,¡± Crusch said. ¡°The spy from the funeral was killed in a most unusual manner by insects, which has been repeated several times since on innocent commoners. I believe we are getting closer to finding the culprit.¡±

    Ferris closed his eyes, nodding slowly. It was no surprise that Crusch was overworking herself in a scenario like that. Crusch clearly blamed herself for the later deaths, as if she had found the culprit earlier, those people would still be alive.

    Crusch was just like Fourier, both of them cared about everyone around them.

    Ferris was honestly surprised that she had taken the time to visit him, rather than dispatching a courier to tell him their meeting was rescheduled.

    ¡°Would you care to accompany me for a stroll around the capital?¡± Crusch asked. ¡°There are matters I¡¯d appreciate your council on.¡±

    Ferris blinked. That was an unusual request, she had not wished to take time away from his duties up till this point, so she must really need his help if she was asking now.

    Naturally, he was under strict orders not to strain his body or gate, to rest and recover for his return to lessons. That meant he could only give Crusch one possible answer.

    But¡­

    ¡°Of course. Ferri would be honoured to.¡±

    ¡­he couldn¡¯t do it.

    His answer was the wrong one, considering the state of his gate, but he could never say no to his liege.

    ¡°Teacher has already arranged to give Ferri the day off,¡± Ferris continued, his mind racing to phrase the sentence so as not to reveal too much.

    He did have the day off. The fact that it was for his recovery, rather than being free to do as he pleased, was something that didn¡¯t need to be brought up.

    ¡°That being said though¡­¡± Ferris said hesitating slightly. ¡°If we intend to be back before it gets dark, we¡¯d need to set off now.¡±

    It was an uncharacteristically blunt statement, but if he was going to leave, he needed to do so quickly. He¡¯d noticed that Ram had a habit of periodically checking to see if he was actually resting. And if she came to check on them before they left, she might talk to Crusch.

    If he wanted any chance of getting out of the manor without Crusch knowing the truth about his state, then he needed to leave immediately.

    However, it seemed he had let some of his true feelings on the matter get too close to the surface of his mind. Crusch had narrowed her eyes, staring at him with a glint of suspicion.

    ¡°Ferris,¡± she said, a trace of exasperation in her tone. ¡°I hope that Lord Roswaal gave you permission first, before you picked up the habit of calling him Teacher.¡±

    ¡°He has,¡± Ferris confirmed, unable to stop a mischievous smile from forming at the memory.

    ¡°You¡¯ll make me worry about how you got permission if you smile like that,¡± Crusch warned, her smile warming for a second before cooling just as quickly.

    ¡°Ferris¡­ you do know that I can tell you''re not telling me something. You don¡¯t have to reveal it, but if I find out later that it¡¯s something you should have told me, know that I will double your punishment.¡± Crusch pronounced.

    Ferris couldn¡¯t quite suppress a shiver. He knew from experience that unlike most, Crusch always kept her word.

    That didn¡¯t change his decision, as even if she did end up doubling his punishment later, he still thought it worth it. And if he managed to keep her from learning the truth, he wouldn¡¯t get punished at all!

    When he continued to say nothing, Crusch sighed.

    ¡°Very well, if that is your decision, I¡¯ll respect it for now. Let¡¯s be on our way.¡±

    Together they walked through the halls of the manor, Ferris keeping his emotions firmly under control, and his ears twitching to try and locate the manor¡¯s other resident. Roswaal and Clind had departed on business, but Ram was still in the manor.

    He had heard some clinking from the kitchen, but now that area was silent. Perhaps she had decided to take a nap while he was meeting with Crusch? She did seem the type to slack off on the job.

    They reached the front door without running into her, and Ferris felt himself relax. He¡¯d managed to give her the slip.

    Then Crusch opened the door, and Ferris felt his heart stop. As it turned out, he had not managed to give her the slip at all.

    ¡°Lady Crusch, may I ask where you are taking Sir Ferris?¡± Ram asked, standing with her arms crossed right outside the door. A pair of gardening shears lay on the ground beside her, doubtlessly discarded when she heard them coming.

    Crusch shifted her stance, then shot a glance back at Ferris. He avoided her gaze, and she sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve asked him to take a look at something, to aid in my investigation. Can I assume he did not tell me something?¡±

    Ram nodded. ¡°The reason he doesn¡¯t have any duties is because he needs to rest after straining even his gate. He damaged it badly not even half a week ago.¡±

    Busted.

    Ferris was an expert at the many expressions his Lady made. Even though Crusch¡¯s face barely twitched, he could tell from her eyes alone that she was furious that he¡¯d hide the state of his health.

    ¡°Thank you for informing me of this.¡± Crusch said calmly, then she turned to face him fully. ¡°Ferris I will ask you directly then, before I let you take another step forward.¡±

    Ferris was tempted to take a small step forward, but the fact that Crusch was potentially willing to postpone punishment meant this must be serious.

    ¡°Can you examine a dead body without further straining your gate?¡± Crusch asked.

    ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Ferris admitted. Then when he saw Crusch¡¯s face fall, he hurriedly continued, ¡°However, if it¡¯s something that minor, the stress would be incredibly small. Even if I spend a few hours examining them, it shouldn¡¯t set me back more than a day, so I¡¯ll be fine to check one for you!¡±

    Crusch frowned, but this time Ferris was speaking the pure and plain truth, with no attempt to mislead. Crusch held his gaze for a moment, but then sighed and nodded her acceptance.

    ¡°That will have to be enough. The other healers haven¡¯t been able to learn anything. The murders have drastically increased in scope and scale,¡± Crusch said. ¡°If you are certain the penalties to yourself will be minor, I¡¯ll bring you to examine one of the nearer bodies. One of our experts should already be there, so perhaps you¡¯ll be able to give each other a better idea of what happened.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me for interjecting, Lady Crusch,¡± Ram spoke up. ¡°But it may be best for me to accompany Sir Ferris as well. Lord Roswaal isn¡¯t in the manor at the moment, but I was instructed to keep Sir Ferris from harm, or to call for Lord Roswaal if his aid is required.¡±

    Crusch turned to face the maid.

    ¡°If Lord Roswaal instructed you to keep him safe, can I trust your skill in combat?¡± Crusch asked.

    ¡°Ram is proficient in Wind Magic, and Lord Roswaal has provided some metias for use in case of emergencies,¡± Ram said, meeting her gaze.

    Crusch held it for a moment, then nodded, accepting Ram¡¯s answer.

    ¡°You seem confident in your ability, and I have first-hand experience at the utility Lord Roswaal¡¯s metias can bring,¡± she said. ¡°Very well, you can join us.¡±

    Noooo! Now I can¡¯t spend time with Lady Crusch alone!

    Ferris allowed himself a second to pout in displeasure, before forcing himself to perk up.

    It wasn¡¯t all bad. After all, he had wanted to get to know her better since receiving her aid. What better way was there to do that than being around Crusch?

    <hr>

    Contrary to Ferris¡¯s expectations, Crusch¡¯s presence hadn¡¯t caused Ram to open up. If anything, she talked even less than she usually did, although admittedly it was mostly his own fault. She didn¡¯t have much of a chance to say anything with him pestering Crusch to know how she was doing and how Fourier was getting on.

    In his defence, it had been an entire week since he had seen Crusch, and he hadn¡¯t been in the best of conditions for their last few meetings.

    At the very least, he¡¯d gotten to see that Ram was completely honest when she did speak up, from what he could read of Crusch¡¯s face, before they reached the bodies.

    The first thing Ferris noticed was the strong odour drifting from their remains. The smell of death was thick in the air.

    But it was nothing compared to seeing the remains themselves.

    As a healer, Ferris was familiar with the bodies of both humans, and demi-humans alike, but even his father¡¯s twisted experiments paled in comparison.

    It was clear that the body had been desecrated from hundreds of small creatures. For a second, Ferris recalled a creature of similar description, the image of the Great Rabbit flashing through his mind. But that creature wouldn¡¯t have left anything behind, not even blood or bone. Indeed, it would have devoured the entire slums district, even the entire city.

    Shaking his head, Ferris noticed the guards surrounding the corpse¡¯s exhaustion easily, he imagined staying near something so horrid would drain a person.

    Which just made the elderly noble crouched over the remains with a fascinated look stand out all the more.

    ¡°Edgar, have you discovered anything new?¡± Crusch asked, as they came to a stop in front of the body.

    The man perked up, and glanced at them, shifting his spectacles so he could see the three of them.

    ¡°I can tell you that this body¡ªas with all the others you¡¯ve asked me to look at¡ªseems to have been devoured in the same way as the first,¡± Edgar said.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    He gave a slight smile and shrugged his shoulders. ¡°But anyone could tell you that. I don¡¯t have much in the way of carapace remnants to work from, only the way the remains have been left, what they¡¯ve chosen to leave uneaten, and the way the flesh has been damaged. I¡¯d need more information to make theories that are more than just idle speculation.¡±

    ¡°Well, you may get more information today. My attendant is the current Blue, and while prior mages haven¡¯t been able to glean much, he might be able to,¡± Crusch said. ¡°However, his duties keep him very busy. We won¡¯t be able to get his aid with this investigation very often.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Lady Crusch,¡± Edgar said, turning to examine Ferris with curiosity shining in his eyes. Thankfully, the elderly man had no visible anger or disgust, which at least meant that his demi-human nature wouldn¡¯t be a current problem. However, the way he looked at Ferris was a bit off-putting. It was like the old man saw him as nothing more than a useful tool.

    Ferris turned his attention away from the man, and knelt down beside the corpse.

    Reaching down to touch the body and examine it, Ferris allowed his closed gate to open once more, and made his mana flow through it.

    It was a ruin. So much had been destroyed, in such a violent manner, that Ferris had difficulty even examining the body as a single corpse, rather than as various pieces of flesh.

    He worked through his senses and started trying to puzzle the information he was getting together. The legs appeared to have been targeted first, and compared to the rest of the body, were destroyed quickly.

    Something to stop the victim from running, perhaps?

    In contrast, everything else had been attacked sadistically, with no rhyme nor reason to it. The nerve endings in the hands had been frayed and destroyed, leaving almost nothing. Ferris couldn¡¯t imagine a reason behind it other than a simple desire to cause pain.

    At some point, the victim must have died, since there had been a shift in the way the body had been destroyed, though it was difficult to tell exactly what it was.

    Why is this so hard to read?

    ¡°We¡¯re sure that the victim was killed today?¡± Ferris asked. It was perhaps an unnecessary question. His own experience with physical examination bodies told him it was likely the truth. The blood was too wet, the bones too soft, and the remaining organs too intact for it to be more than a few hours old. But there was one detail that didn¡¯t match up.

    ¡°Fairly sure,¡± Crush replied with confusion touching her voice. ¡°The guards met up with a witness who saw the victim alive last night. The body also had some distinguishing items, so we¡¯re highly confident that we know the identity of the victim.¡±

    ¡°How possible is it that these bodies have been tampered with, and the evidence added?¡± Ferris asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s possible, I suppose,¡± Crusch allowed. ¡°Do you think the identity of the corpse is important, Ferris?¡±

    ¡°No, I don''t think identity is important¡­¡± Ferris said slowly. ¡°But the traces of mana on this corpse are so non-existent that even I¡¯m struggling to gather details.¡±

    Crusch tilted her head.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you gain information from corpses weeks old though,¡± she said with surprise. ¡°You¡¯ve never had any difficulty in the past.¡±

    ¡°I wish these corpses were only as faded as that,¡± Ferris said. ¡°But this is closer to a corpse left alone for months. I¡¯m not surprised that every other mage has failed to gather information on it. Few have enough control to investigate so subtly. I¡¯m the first to examine this particular corpse, amn¡¯t I?¡±

    Crusch nodded. ¡°This one was only discovered this morning. How could you tell?¡±

    ¡°You would have mentioned that the other corpses had lacked mana first if the other healers had noticed. I can only assume that some of their own mana sufficed the corpses before they noticed anything,¡± Ferris said.

    He glanced back down at the body, trying to feel out why the mana was missing. But his gate was still injured, and such fine control of mana was beyond him.

    ¡°Once I¡¯ve fully recovered,¡± Ferris said, allowing his healing orb to dissipate. ¡°I¡¯ll have to examine this corpse again, to see if I can figure out more. Or maybe a fresh one, if the attacks continue.¡±

    Crusch pursed her lips, but didn¡¯t comment on it. They both knew that the attacks likely would continue. They had no way to prevent them.

    ¡°Sir Felix, if I might inquire about a select few details?¡± asked a rather upbeat voice, standing in stark contrast to the morbid air.

    Ferris turned his head up to Edgar, who was looking at him with a hungry curiosity.

    ¡°You said their mana was especially faded, could you clarify what that means?¡± he asked. ¡°That is to say, is there any natural process to explain this? How does mana usually leave corpses?¡±

    Ferris hesitated. ¡°Well¡­ I do not know of any method outside of healing that removes mana. Mostly corpses just lose it over time. It leaks into the surroundings, and the gate no longer takes it in.¡±

    Edgar nodded, a smile spreading across his lips.

    ¡°Remarkable. Then this must have been the work of one of those specimens.¡±

    He paused, tapping the side of his head with a finger, his eyes distant as if lost in a world of his own.

    ¡°Lethargy Mosquitos,¡± he finally declared with a snap of his fingers. ¡°That was their name. There are rumours of a particular type of mosquito in the Vollachian jungles which feast not on blood, but on a victim¡¯s mana. I have not personally been able to collect a specimen, but I believe I have an illustration somewhere¡­¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯ve identified another insect,¡± Ferris said. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t really help us. We still don¡¯t know anything useful.¡±

    Crusch frowned down at him. ¡°That may be so, but Lord Edgar has voluntarily dedicated a significant amount of time to this investigation. Do not be so rude, Ferris.¡±

    Ferris sunk down, his liege¡¯s disappointment in him wounding him to the heart.

    For his part, Edgar just chuckled.

    ¡°You needn¡¯t worry about me, Lady Crusch,¡± he said, still beaming. ¡°I understand that my aid has not been especially helpful over the course of your work. And now that I do have something I can share, I fear it is less pleasant than you would have hoped.¡±

    Crusch perked up. ¡°Really? Even bad news is something that may be valuable to us.¡±

    She glanced at the surroundings, and more importantly, at the armoured figures standing guard around them. They were soldiers of the Karsten estate, but Crusch still eyed them warily. Ferris could tell she was at war within herself, weighing the risk of betrayal against her desire to trust them.

    After a moment, her expression cleared, and she turned back to Edgar.

    ¡°Speak freely, all here are trustworthy.¡±

    Edgar nodded. ¡°It is said that due to their diet, Lethargy Mosquitos are incredibly rich in mana. For this insect master, they would serve as a convenient store of mana.¡±

    Crusch tilted her head. ¡°I can see why the enemy having such a store of mana would be troublesome, but we¡¯ve already assumed they could have a supply of lagmite with them.¡±

    ¡°It is true that for humans, lagmite is a far more effective store of mana,¡± Edgar said. ¡°But that is not the case for insects. They are usually unable to access the mana contained within them, and must rely on their gates in most cases. This limits their population growth to a certain extent, as most insects require a certain usage of mana during their reproductive processes. However, they are capable of gaining mana from their food, which I believe is what the mosquitos are for.¡±

    Crusch blinked. ¡°So¡­ you mean the insect master means to alleviate that bottleneck? They intend to boost the numbers of the insects under their control?¡±

    Edgar nodded. ¡°Precisely. I¡¯ve suspected it for a while, as all the victims up to this point have been missing their livers and fatty flesh, the most nutritious parts of the body.¡±

    Ferris felt a bit sick on hearing those words. The old man said them matter-of-factly, as if he were merely discussing the effects of the weather. Even the guards looked a bit pale.

    ¡°But it didn¡¯t match up until now,¡± he continued, ignoring the queasy looks he was receiving, ¡°as much of the blood remained behind, and many of the bodies had only partially eaten hearts, both of which are rich in mana.¡±

    Crusch seemed bothered by the nauseating descriptions. She stood deep in thought, hand rubbing her chin.

    ¡°So can we expect attacks to increase in the near future?¡± she asked. ¡°How much can we expect the insects¡¯ numbers to increase? And how quickly will it happen?¡±

    Edgar shrugged. ¡°It is difficult to say. I would assume attacks will increase, if only to feed their increased number. As to how much? That I cannot give any kind of prediction.¡±

    He stood up, looking toward the sky. ¡°No swarms have ever been witnessed during an attack, so we don¡¯t know how many are usually sent out on ¡®raiding parties¡¯. If we assume the ones you killed are indicative of a normal swarm¡­ I would tentatively say that their numbers could reach as high as twenty, perhaps thirty swarms at the most while keeping the Lethargy Mosquitos alive, though at that point they would be killing several people a day just to feed themselves.¡±

    Crusch nodded slowly. ¡°That sounds more manageable than I feared¡­ but dealing with those swarms is still impossible for any but mages. They are not the kind of enemy that can be defeated with an increased number of soldiers.¡±

    She paused, then pursed her lips.

    ¡°What if they choose not to keep them alive? If they consume the mosquitos and create as many insects as possible?¡±

    ¡°While I unfortunately do not have any samples of the Lethargy Mosquitos myself, I do suspect that if it can harness much of the mana found in humans, and refine it for other insects, it¡¯s entirely possible that even a single Lethargy Mosquito could supply thousands of combatant insects, why with as many Mosquitos have already been produced, it could create millions perhaps even billions of insects if they manage to maximise their swarms,¡± Edgar said, sounding almost enthusiastic at the thought, before seeming to notice the horror in everyone else¡¯s expression.

    Coughing the man continued, ¡°Ah, but there is some good news,¡± Edgar said, turning to face Crusch, nervously. ¡°Part of the reason Lethargy Mosquitos are so rare is their mana density. Outside of their swamps, they are eaten by all manner of predators, birds, bats, other insects¡­¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°The list goes on. Regardless, if they travel alone, they will inevitably run into  and be devoured by those predators, so it stands to reason they must be travelling with the swarms for protection. And while good data on them is hard to get, if they have a flight speed similar to normal mosquitos, then they will be quite slow, requiring a great deal of time to move through the city.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Crusch said. ¡°Since no one has reported such a swarm, they must be based somewhere nearby¡­ somewhere they can reach while under the cover of darkness.¡±

    She glanced around at the dwellings around them, the decrepit shacks so common in the slums.

    ¡°There are a great deal of abandoned buildings in or near the slums. The insect master is likely using one as the base for their raiding parties.¡±

    She narrowed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll start investigating them. I thank you for your work, Lord Edgar. This may prove to be a valuable lead, and I will make sure to kill the swarms before they can multiply.¡±

    The old man inclined his head. ¡°I¡¯m glad my efforts have finally been of service to you. And if you do happen to find them, please do allow me to categorise them. Even just one would allow me to give a far more accurate number on just how many they could create. They could be a great boon for the field of entomology.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    <hr>

    Fourier strode forward, his recent experience and extensive schooling allowing him to keep his doubt from showing on his face. He was glad to at least have Julius by his side.

    He¡¯d never been fond of meetings, but it had become far worse now that he was informally King.

    Every moment he was outside his chambers, he was generally either in a meeting or moving towards a new one.

    It made him wish that he could simply talk with each of his council individually, without having to carefully consider the politics behind it. He was certain that he¡¯d be able to assuage their concerns and more importantly, understand them.

    One on one, there¡¯d never been a person he¡¯d failed to understand, but make it a large group? It wasn¡¯t impossible, but it became far more complicated and likely to give him a headache.

    Sadly, there were several issues with such an idea. For starters he''d have to go through the members slowly and in a certain order to avoid displeasing any of them. Something that wouldn¡¯t be kept secret for long, and he could easily be looking at accusations of favouritism if a less important but still vital member had to be visited after one of his rivals.

    Of course even if he got past that issue, he simply lacked the time to go through with such a plan. Clearing out time periods for his weekly meetings with Ferris and Crusch was challenging enough.

    ¡°Julius, I¡¯ve been noticing that more power blocks have been forming inside of the council,¡± Fourier asked now that they were alone. ¡°Has your uncle been invited to join any yet?¡±

    ¡°He has not,¡± Julius replied, allowing himself to stride beside Fourier rather than remain a step behind. ¡°He is close enough to the royal faction that no one feels comfortable in trying to pry him away. The last time we spoke, he mentioned that he has noticed that most of the current manoeuvring seems to be focused around the new church faction, lead by Bishop Jaune. Although that is possibly because the block is new to the council, and all others are working out the new order.¡±

    ¡°If Jaune was someone I didn¡¯t know well, I could believe it,¡± Fourier allowed. ¡°I do know him though, and I know he¡¯s too clever to allow himself to get entangled like that. No, if he¡¯s the most prominent in the current council rumours, it¡¯s by his own design.¡±

    ¡°You think the block is being formed over something the church wants, then,¡± Julius said.

    ¡°I do, and I have a sneaking suspicion I know what that something is,¡± Fourier said, red eyes darkening in anger. ¡°Ever since he began manoeuvring, I stopped hearing about moving my formal coronation forwards. I suspect Jaune is angling to gather enough support from the various nobles to threaten to force the issue.¡±

    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± Julius said, yellow eyes widening. ¡°Is he aware of the damage such a tactic could inflict to your authority? I apologise, I do not know the Bishop personally, but from what you¡¯ve told me, he has always held the Crown¡¯s rights as part of his divine mandate.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s aware,¡± Fourier confirmed with a sigh. ¡°Knowing Jaune, he¡¯s counting on Miklotov catching on before they have the raw numbers. They¡¯d settle outside the council, in which case he¡¯ll get a powerful boost to his credibility, and the crown doesn¡¯t lose any of ours.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t Lord Miklotov simply call the bluff?¡± Julius asked, distaste touching his tone.

    Fourier paused, thinking through the implications.

    ¡°Theoretically¡­ he could,¡± Fourier allowed. ¡°Jaune holds the crown''s authority too high to weaken it if push came to shove.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°But that is not the main problem. Jaune is taking advantage of an issue that was already causing controversy. Now that he¡¯s helped enemies find common ground, and even created a faction that¡¯s going to be noticed over time. He¡¯s hit critical mass. Even if he lost his seat right now, or agreed to go against the momentum he¡¯s made, it¡¯d be too late. This church¡¯s faction, these ¡®Traditionalists¡¯... they¡¯re united now. They¡¯re not just going to go away.¡±

    Unable to help himself, Fourier couldn¡¯t resist a grim chuckle, at seeing the steadily darkening expression Julius was making.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure, Jaune would argue that he was simply being responsible by taking charge of a wild-fire that was brewing. By taking control and leading it through a controlled burn, he can guarantee that the person in charge will agree to settle outside of the council,¡± Fourier concluded.

    ¡°If Bishop Jaune was depending on Lord Miklotov catching on, then Your Majesty discovering early surely isn¡¯t part of his plans,¡± Julius said.

    ¡°It isn''t,¡± Fourier agreed with a grimace. ¡°But that¡¯s more because his worst case scenario really would be destroying the crown¡¯s authority with his own hands. It¡¯d be akin to sacrilege to the man. The fact that he has Miklotov as a safety net, means he doesn¡¯t have to escalate, just the threat is enough. If anything Jaune would be happy I discovered it myself, as it makes that worse case much less plausible.¡±

    ¡°So he¡¯s going to get away with it?¡± Julius asked, expression turning neutral as he regressed to hiding behind his mask. Fourier suppressed a sigh. His knight was far too careful with his emotions. He looked forward to the day that Julius would be open enough to swear instead.

    Though, from what Ferris had told him, that didn¡¯t seem very likely for the man obsessed with knighthood.

    ¡°In the short term? He will,¡± Fourier answered. ¡°This isn¡¯t the sort of act that I¡¯ll be able to dissolve his seat on the council for. However his own policy on a strong crown works against him in the long term.¡±

    He smiled grimly. ¡°He¡¯s convinced me that I don¡¯t want him in a seat of power in the council, and perhaps even inside the church as well. The worst part is that Jaune clearly thinks that I¡¯m too young and inexperienced to rule effectively. By the time I evict him, he¡¯ll have undoubtedly caused a number of changes that he believes I¡¯ll understand the wisdom of in time.¡±

    ¡°In case it needs to be stated, he is wrong,¡± Julius said with conviction. ¡°As your knight, I¡¯ve seen the amount of time and care you¡¯ve put into ruling. The closest you¡¯ve had to free time are your meetings with Lady Crusch and Sir Ferris.¡±

    He paused, then continued in a softer tone. ¡°More than just time though, I can tell that you have a powerful vision of what the Kingdom can become. You are more than ready to become King, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°I suppose, I¡¯ll have to be,¡± Fourier sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll need to plan to start the sacred rite within the next week.¡±

    ¡°The sacred rite¡­¡± Julius said, glancing over to Fourier. ¡°Much is made of it, but I¡¯ll admit, I had never heard of it until I started training to become a knight. And as your knight, I feel somewhat uneasy. I don¡¯t like what little I have heard. You must perform them without your guards, and remain alone in the Cathedral for a week, correct?¡±

    ¡°Mostly correct, yes,¡± Fourier said. ¡°The Church provides their own guards for the ceremony, as they only allow the most pious to attend such an important event. It¡¯s one of their most important duties. They prevent anyone from entering, with the only exception being sworn knights and attendants.¡±

    ¡°I see. So I¡¯ll be able to attend then,¡± Julius said, relaxing slightly. ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll simply have to prove that I can protect you myself.¡±

    ¡°Ferris will be there as well, as my attendant, but currently it¡¯ll just be the two of you,¡± Fourier said gazing at the ceiling. ¡°I still need to talk to Crusch on the possibility of her attending.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a possibility she isn''t?¡± Julius asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°With how close you two are, I would have expected her attendance to be a foregone conclusion.¡±

    ¡°Alas, Crusch has a sense of duty even firmer than I,¡± Fourier said, smiling, trying to ignore the discomfort in his eyes. He wasn¡¯t about to cry tears of regret for a few days he wouldn¡¯t be able to spend with her!

    ¡°Last we spoke, her investigation is becoming ever-more important. It would be difficult for her to find somebody to hand the case to, and could cost the lives of more of our citizens.¡±

    ¡°One could argue, her duty to see the prince formally crowned would out-weigh any case below a civil war,¡± Julius said quietly.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t believe that though,¡± Fourier said, refusing to allow any of his tears to fall. ¡°One of the reasons we are so close is that I do not hide my feelings. Truthfully I already know that the investigation is more important than her attendance. I just¡­¡±

    ¡°Could Lady Crusch not attend the finale of the ceremony at least?¡± Julius asked.

    ¡°No, even that isn¡¯t a real possibility, I¡¯d need to request just to allow Crusch the ability to attend the ceremony. They¡¯d never allow someone to attend who wasn¡¯t willing to wait through the full process.¡± Fourier said, dismissing the possibility. ¡°At the very least, she¡¯ll be around to see my actual formal crowning, even if she loses the opportunity to see Volcanica up close.¡±

    Julius glanced at him quizzically.

    ¡°From my understanding, most nobles attend the crowning itself,¡± he pointed out. ¡°Surely she¡¯ll be able to see him there?¡±

    ¡°Yes, she¡¯ll be able to see him, but those present when he arrives are generally given the opportunity to touch his scales.¡±

    ¡°Touch his scales?¡± Julius repeated. ¡°Why would¡­? Well, I¡­¡±

    He paused.

    ¡°...ah,¡± he finally uttered. ¡°Yes, I can see why she might be sorry to miss that.¡±

    Fourier chuckled.

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s not quite as simple as being in the capital after I start,¡± he continued. ¡°Volcanica took several days to arrive for my father¡¯s coronation, and it allegedly took even longer when they tried to contact him during the demi-human war.¡±

    He stopped, mentally counting off the other kings in his head.

    ¡°Several of the previous ceremonies have taken as little as¡­ two days, with most of the later ceremonies taking more time. It¡¯s entirely possible that this one will take even longer than a week,¡± Fourier said, his face darkening. He was already dreading the long wait.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be pouring my blood and Mana periodically into a sacred artefact that will call Volcanica to us. The ceremony will conclude when Volcanica responds, and not a moment prior. The only one who can enter and leave are the priests, who will only be collecting food supplies and be rotating in and out, so that as many of their high ranking officials get the chance to participate.¡±

    ¡°Several days together with you and Ferris will not be a dull one,¡± Julius observed smiling. Then, his face grew more solemn.

    ¡°Still, while I loathe to bring the idea up¡­ the last time Volcanica took a week to respond, it caused quite a stir, did it not? Might such a thing happen again?¡±

    Fourier pursed his lips. ¡°You''re thinking of the crowning of Ernest, the thirty-eighth king. While it never escalated into a full riot, there was general discontentment after he set the highest record taking just over a week. It may even be worse this time, as Ernest¡¯s ruling is generally agreed to be a mediocre King. Comparisons were inevitably made to Lionel, his predecessor who had Volcanica arrive in only two days, and who is one of the greatest Kings of Lugunica.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°Not to mention, we¡¯re already dealing with the tensions of those attacks, and the general unease from the loss of the majority of my family. I doubt it would take much more for a full-blown riot to begin.¡±

    ¡°I can hardly imagine the Divine Dragon would put you in such a position, Your Majesty.¡± Julius said firmly.

    ¡°I take it you''re looking forward to seeing Volcanica from that tone.¡± Fourier said, smiling softly.

    ¡°It goes without saying,¡± Julius said enthusiastically. ¡°As one of the three heroes that sealed the Witch of Envy herself, and the protector of our kingdom, I am certainly looking forward to receiving the honour of meeting him by your side.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget the fact that if he¡¯s late, you¡¯ll have to suffer that riot by my side,¡± Fourier pointed out amused.

    ¡°Do not worry Your Majesty, in such a scenario I will simply have to be up to protecting you and Ferris myself,¡± Julius said. ¡°With his aid, it would likely be best to leave through the nearest available exit, or create one, and heal any damages as they occur.¡±

    ¡°Can we not talk about throwing ourselves out of a window, or destroying a wall of the cathedral?¡± Fourier complained, shaking his head. ¡°Especially when it¡¯s multiple stories high?¡±

    ¡°As Your Majesty knows, retreating when one is massively outnumbered is only reasonable,¡± Julius countered, waving one of his fingers in a circle, causing one of his spirits to rustle his hair in an invisible breeze. ¡°Alo will help us land safely, and any injuries we do incur can be healed by Ferris.¡±

    He smiled slightly, and in that moment, he looked more like a mischievous boy than the finest knight in the kingdom. ¡°It also would give us a great advantage in our escape. After all, few expect such exits from those in tall buildings.¡±

    Fourier tried to keep a straight face, but couldn¡¯t stop a small chuckle.

    ¡°That is because most people would break their legs from such a fall, to put it lightly. Even the great Spirit Knight himself won''t come out of it unharmed, you''re just leaving poor Ferris to heal our wounds. Besides, imagine what would happen if we fell from the sky right as Volcanica arrived?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure the Divine Dragon would understand the seriousness in such a scenario. Many stories abound of his wisdom,¡± Julius said not deterred in the slightest.

    Fourier nodded, accepting the point, ¡°If it does come to that, allow me one final attempt to keep the crowd as calm as possible. I understand that you''re in charge of my safety, but I¡¯m in charge of all the priests and citizens myself. Unless, I¡¯m incapacitated, try to simply stay calm and utilise your own charisma as well.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Your Majesty.¡± Julius agreed, his usual elegance coming back to the fore. ¡°A true Knight will always consider the importance of citizens'' safety.¡±

    They walked in silence for a moment, then, just as they were about to reach their destination, Julius said softly, ¡°It is unfortunate that Reinhard will not be able to attend. With the way the Vollachian empire is acting, I doubt we¡¯ll be able to redeploy him to the capital.¡±

    ¡°Another reason I wish I could delay the ceremony,¡± Fourier agreed. ¡°But in the end, we need to be sure our southern border is secure. It will decrease the chance of anything serious happening on that front while I¡¯m crowned.¡±

    As he reached the doorway, and Julius placed his hand on the handle to open it, Fourier thought to himself.

    Best to handle this as soon as possible. The less power Jaune possesses when I begin, the less it will appear our hand was forced. I guess Milkotov is going to get his way after all.

 The Parade

    Ferris stared at the Margrave, aghast.

    ¡°You''re telling me that Fourier is arranging for the parade to the sacred rite next week?!¡± Ferris hissed, feeling overwhelmed at the thought. ¡°We talked last Wood Day, and His Majesty said that he wasn¡¯t planning on organising one for months!¡±

    ¡°Be very care~ful who you share that information with,¡± Roswaal said evenly.

    He did not look up from his documents, his quill scratching out his signature on one page after another.

    ¡°I have my su~spicions on why His Majesty changed his mind,¡± Roswaal continued, ¡°as do many others, but His Majesty was careful to never give a timeline on when he planned his coronation. Many will think that King Fourier simply moved the schedule up sli~ghtly.¡±

    Ferris grimaced at the slip up, but nodded in understanding.

    The two were in Roswaal¡¯s study, ready to start the day¡¯s lessons. Roswaal had revealed that enormous piece of information just as Ferris sat down, which had immediately caused him to leap to his feet again.

    Feeling a little foolish, Ferris returned to his seat, organising his disarrayed thoughts.

    ¡°And on that note, you should be joi~ning him,¡± Roswaal continued. ¡°I believe you have enough practical exp~erience that you will be able to absorb the theory contained within the tomes. I¡¯ll select a num~ber of them for you to study in your absence.¡±

    Ferris blinked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve made a lot of progress in curse breaking since my gate recovered,¡± he finally said. ¡°If I lock myself away now¡­¡±

    ¡°I believe this is the be~st course of action,¡± Roswaal said, putting his quill down. ¡°King Fourier could pote~ntially be vulnerable during the ceremony. The perp~etrator has not attempted to target His Majesty armed with his typical guard. Yet the cere~mony demands that only the church protect him with the exception of Sworn Knights. In a traditional rite, every Royal Member and their own Sworn Knight would attend, but with Fourier being the only remaining royal¡­.¡±

    He paused, and looked towards the window.

    ¡°Thankfully, as a concession King Fourier was promised a Royal Guard in addition to his own Knight. Sir Julius is extremely ca~pable, but it would be best to have a healer on site. Especially since if you didn¡¯t attend, I would still be assi~gning theoretical studies rather than practical experience,¡± he said. ¡°Clind and Ram have¡­ a task I must send them on, in my family¡¯s lands. Without them present, I fe~el our ordinary lessons would be too difficult to hold.¡±

    Roswaal fell silent, and Ferris digested that information.

    He had never seen Roswaal go anywhere without Clind, so it was surprising to hear that the butler would be leaving without him.

    ¡°If Fourier can only bring one member of the Royal Guard, then shouldn¡¯t he bring Captain Marcos?¡± Ferris asked, ¡°The primary reason Julius was chosen to become Fourier¡¯s Sworn Knight is because he can already slow curses down? Wouldn¡¯t he be able to do it long enough to bring him here?¡±

    ¡°Choosing Marcos would be an insult to the church, as it implies that Fourier does not trust his life to them. The reason Sworn Knights are allowed to attend at all is primarily for honour,¡± Roswaal countered. ¡°In all likelihood, the primary reason the concession was granted is due to your friendship with King Fourier being open knowledge. While Sir Julius can slow down the curse, it will still do quite a bit of damage before we can see him if you are not on site, as it will be difficult to leave the ceremony after it starts. Even if you cannot break the curse directly, you will be able to cure the symptoms.¡±

    Ferris lowered his eyes, expression darkening at the thought. He remembered just how sickening being so helpless felt.

    ¡°If¡­ if we focused on breaking the Royal Family curse¡­ do you think I¡¯d be able to Teacher?¡± he asked, unable to hide the hopeful tone.

    ¡°If you focused entirely on defeating that cu~rse for the next week?¡± Roswaal pondered. ¡°Perha~ps. Your strides in detection have grown exponentially. If I performed the curse several times and you destructively tested the remains, you¡¯d likely grasp the essence enough to dispel the curse. However, such a method would not be much fa~ster than our current training. Not to mention, less useful.¡±

    Roswaal released a quiet sigh, seeing that Ferris wasn¡¯t deterred.

    ¡°We¡¯ve discussed it before,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°But it is still possible that the assai~lant will use a different curse next time. There are multiple I can think of that would be similarly subtle, especially when there is only one target le~ft.¡±

    His eyes flicked to the books Ferris had brought with him, both the old textbooks and the notebook Ferris used to record his questions.

    ¡°The reason I have given you so much material focu~sed on analysis of curses is because it will require less subjects for destructive testing. If you can learn to see a curse for what it truly is, you will surpa~ss even myself.¡±

    He laid down his quill, and raised his eyes to meet Ferris¡¯s.

    ¡°Our enemies have already proven their capa~bility of creating a unique curse, and although I doubt they will create another of the same complexity to deal with a single target, we must be aware of the possibility. If they do possess the means and create a new one as complex, then even I will not be able to save his ma~jesty.¡±

    Ferris paled. ¡°And you expect me to be able to handle it without destructive testing?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Roswaal confirmed smile softening. ¡°Or rather, I expect that working toge~ther, you and I will be enough to handle even a unique curse without having to use such distasteful methods. Even if you cannot learn to bre~ak them, if you serve as my eyes, I can handle the rest.¡±

    Ferris grimaced, ears flat against his head. ¡°But what if Fourier is attacked while you¡¯re not around? Will my skills ever grow enough for me to delay a curse for days to weeks?¡±

    Roswaal closed an eye, his yellow eye examining Ferris closely.

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ll make sure of it. One day I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll surpa~ss me. After all, you have achieved the title of ¡®Blue¡¯, and at such a you~ng age. I have no doubt that one day you¡¯ll be able to wash away even the most pow~erful of curses with nothing more than a wave of your hand.¡±

    Ferris¡¯s ears rose as he untensed. ¡°If you''re that confident¡­ then Ferri will focus on curse analysis.¡±

    Roswaal nodded at his answer, then tilted his head.

    ¡°As long as that is your pri~mary focus¡­¡± Roswaal said slowly, ¡°I suppose I could have Clind gather several dispo~sable test subjects. If I limit the royal family curse to once a day, it shouldn¡¯t slow down either of us. Keep in mind that this will only adva~nce your studies with this specific curse.¡±

    Ferris perked up, smiling brightly at Roswaal.

    ¡°Thank you Teacher,¡± he said, the relief evident in his tone. ¡°It¡¯ll help me rest easy. I¡¯ve had nightmares of Fourier being inflicted with it again.¡±

    ¡°I understand,¡± Roswaal said softly. ¡°Your frie~ndship with His Majesty is well known, and we both know who kept him alive long enough for me to save him. Have faith that should any~thing happen that you will be able to match and exceed yourself, now that you understand curses.¡±

    <hr>

    Fourier¡¯s hand ached, having spent the last several hours writing instructions and signing paperwork.

    Today would be his last day in the palace as a prince, even if he¡¯d been informally ruling as King. Tomorrow he¡¯d go out and meet his people one last time, and then the coronation would begin.

    It was amazing how much could change in just a few months.

    He¡¯d always enjoyed travelling and he¡¯d regularly gone out of his way to visit his friends whenever he could. Back then, time had seemed like such an ephemeral thing, something that was measured more on how interesting a day was, rather than how much he accomplished.

    Now? He¡¯d met with professionals who had booked every hour of his life, segmenting himself into parts for the sake of his kingdom. Even when he was supposed to be relaxing, a part of him always kept an eye on the clock, the other turning inwards and considering how he could handle things more efficiently.

    A week was such a short period of time, Fourier had taken longer to simply travel to Priestella, for the sake of finding something to surprise Crusch with.

    Yet that same week set his teeth on edge now, the idea of not being constantly connected to his kingdom strange and foreign.

    At least Crusch had agreed to drop some information off after a few days, and it¡¯d be good to be near Ferris again, even if he doubted they¡¯d have much time to talk.

    The sound of knocking drew him out of the maudlin thoughts and into the present, although the meeting wasn¡¯t one he was looking forward to.

    ¡°Come in,¡± Fourier said, grateful to at least have an excuse to set the quill down.

    Roswaal entered, his cloak fluttering as he bowed deeply.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to do that,¡± Fourier said, but he still waved his hand in the semi-formal gesture that gave Roswaal permission to speak. He had long since stopped trying to fight the little details of his position.

    ¡°Your ma~jesty, it is an honour to see you again. I can report that Sir Ferris is prepa~red to escort you tomorrow alongside Sir Julius,¡± Roswaal said, inclining his head towards Julius, who matched the gesture.

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear,¡± Fourier said, knowing that if Roswaal was leading with that information that he¡¯d found a way to ensure Ferris was well rested for the start of the event at least. Yet despite his wishes he couldn¡¯t be satisfied by that alone.

    ¡°What progress has he made on being able to destroy a curse?¡± Fourier said, carefully controlling his tone.

    ¡°Sir Ferris''s pro~gress has continued to astound, however he is still just beginning to further his understanding of curse-breaking,¡± Roswaal said, smiling softly.

    ¡°I believe that at this point, Sir Ferris should be able to dete~ct almost any form of curse created, though he may still struggle to break them. He¡¯s particularly dedicated towards your family''s curse. He has been practising with the infe~rior versions that I am able to create, and can now usually break them in a couple of hours.¡±

    ¡°A couple of hours?¡± Fourier said in surprise. Roswaal seemed quite pleased with that progress, but¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m not terribly familiar with how the magic works, but did you not cure me in under a minute? Even if Ferris hasn¡¯t learned the technique fully, shouldn¡¯t it still take a similar amount of time?¡±

    ¡°Alas, we ha~ve different specialties,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°The technique I utilised requires both Yin and Yang, and what benefits it possesses in speed, it lacks in reliability. Sir Ferris¡¯s premier understanding of healing magic allows him to use an older technique, and his skill with it has led to an almost unpre~cedented ability to detect and analyse curses, to the point that he is learning in days materials that took me months. I suspect that given another month, he will completely surpa~ss me in those areas altogether, despite my decades of experience.¡±

    ¡°From what you''re saying then, Ferris will soon reach the point where he doesn¡¯t need to butcher bodies to discover the root cause of a new curse?¡± Fourier asked, almost slumping in relief. His councillors had brought up the idea of a body double for several of his more exposed meetings, so that even in the worst case scenario, they¡¯d have a way of deciphering the enemy''s newest weapon.

    The idea had sickened him, and worse yet a part of him had even considered the idea. So he was thankful that his dear friend had managed to save even his wavering heart.

    ¡°Yes, such is Sir Ferris¡¯s convictions,¡± Roswaal confirmed. ¡°However, even if Sir Ferris is destined to far eclipse me in analy~sing curses, it remains to be seen if he¡¯ll ever reach my level at dissolving them. My techniques utilised several ele~ments. As Sir Ferris is limited alone to water, he must instead carefully unravel the curse into dissolving, rather than destroying their source.¡±

    ¡°How long does it take to apply a curse of this magnitude?¡± Fourier asked, wondering how much Ferris¡¯s lack of speed would even matter, although if multiple victims were to be affected¡­

    ¡°Rela~tively little time, I can cast it myself within seconds, but I am one of the most skilled mages in the world. In addition, the speed in which I ca~st it does not dissipate the material cost I must spend in blood to cast the curse. Multiple uses could easily debilitate even me should I not have a skilled hea~ler on hand,¡± Roswaal explained.

    Fourier sighed ¡°At the very least if Vollachia really is the culprit, that means that it shouldn¡¯t be used repeatedly. Their healers are few and far between, and Vincent wouldn¡¯t waste them just to use the curse multiple times on anyone unimportant.¡±

    ¡°You''re wondering about the possi~bility of another multi-pronged attack?¡± Roswaal mused. ¡°Certainly, healing magic is a rare talent, even the Mathers family, the premier magical house of Lugunica can¡¯t claim to produce users of healing magic regularly, despite Lugunica possessing the greatest number of healers. However, even if the mage is significantly below my ability, they may simply accept casting it within minutes rather than seconds, and simply cast it repeatedly over several days to ensure they could hit all their targets.¡±

    ¡°I take it you suspect that¡¯s how the royal family got cursed.¡± Fourier said tone rising with anger, before he caught himself. ¡°At this point you¡¯ve examined our highest ranking members, and found nothing. It¡¯ll hold for the week I¡¯m gone.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised, your majesty, I would have thought you would have more faith in the Divine Dragon¡¯s judgement,¡± Roswaal said, his blue eye closing even as he continued.

    ¡°It¡¯s said the Divine Dragon¡¯s arrival is dictated by the quality of the King, I am confident that you will prove to be one of our greatest Kings in generations, yet you believe that Volcanica will judge you severely, despite ruling well for months now?¡±

    ¡°I am simply preparing for the worst,¡± Fourier said, unable to completely hide his doubt. He¡¯d discussed his rule with all those he respected and believed that he¡¯d done a good job. Yet the mark of a good king in many people¡¯s eyes was the favour of Volcanica rather than any extrinsic quality. It made a part of him furious, and he was afraid that despite hiding it from everyone, Roswaal somehow knew from that grin of his.

    ¡°I am unsure of how much reassurance I can give you, Your Majesty, but know that at the very least I, Roswaal K Mathers, will still loyally serve you even should the Dragon make the mistake of not granting you his favour.¡± Finishing off his speech, Roswaal kneeled once more, this time dropping even deeper even as he kept his yellow eye locked solely on Fourier¡¯s own, something dark dancing in them.

    ¡°You go too far, Lord Mathers, to even suggest that the Divine Dragon wouldn¡¯t bless His Majesty!¡± Julius said, fury in his tone as he glared down at the kneeling man.

    Ba-bump

    Fourier bit his lip, seeing red and for a moment not sure if he was angrier at Julius for his praise or Roswaal for the insult that he secretly longed to hear.

    He¡¯d never truly considered the possibility of Volcanica failing to appear at all, while he himself was still in the picture. Even he¡¯d failed to completely divorce the idea of the Dragon from himself.

    Yet hadn¡¯t he sworn that he¡¯d find a way that his subjects would desire him as King, beyond just the Dragon?

    After all, if he was going to be King, he wanted to one day surpass even Miklotov, the man even he recognized would be King if this Kingdom was a meritocracy.

    In which case this could be a good first step.

    While he might harbour a disdain for the man who had violated his family''s bodies, the fact that the head of the Mathers family was willing to swear personal fealty to him was no small matter. The Mathers family after all was easily one of his most important nobles, a position only enhanced by their historical skill in magic.

    ¡°Rise, Roswaal. Your loyalty is recognized and appreciated¡­ even if you continually choose poor ways of showing it. At this rate I may even honour Sir Julius¡¯s request to properly teach you how to hold your tongue,¡± Fourier said calmly, burying the complicated emotions.

    ¡°In case it needs to be restated, you unfortunately will not be welcome at the coronation itself, although I will look forward to meeting you at the palace after the ceremony concludes.¡± Fourier finished. Roswaal nodded his understanding, but Fourier couldn¡¯t help but feel uneasy. There was a glint in Roswaal¡¯s eye, one that troubled him in a way he couldn¡¯t explain.

    <hr>

    Fourier¡¯s cheeks stung.

    He¡¯d always enjoyed smiling, but while he liked to think that all the positivity he showed his subjects was genuine, even he had his limits. Smiling, and talking to his subjects from dawn to dusk while constantly on the move was enough to tax him. Yet any time he considered taking a break, all he had to do was look at another one of his citizens, cheering to get a temporary burst of energy.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Though¡­ he couldn¡¯t help but notice the route they were taking circled around the city, seemingly at random, and yet, clearly intentionally designed. After all, the route never crossed into the poorer areas of the city. He suspected that the parade organisers had wanted to prevent him from entering any of the areas that had been hit hardest by the recession gripping Lugunica.

    Fourier had seen many brilliant sights throughout the parade, but had to admit the grand cathedral made a fitting conclusion. The moonlight reflecting off its marble surface made the building appear to glow softly. Fourier had never before entered the cathedral, and he forced himself to calm, taking deep breaths. This would be his last moment outside without the full weight of his crown.

    The entrance was surrounded by priests, all of whom were dressed in their finest robes, the heavy and uncomfortable-looking ones. They were pure white, and reached down to their feet, almost brushing against the floor. They must have been a pain to clean. No wonder they only wore them on special occasions.

    ¡°Welcome Fourier Lugunica! Son of Randohol Lugunica, forty first king of Lugunica!¡± a voice proclaimed, echoing throughout the cathedral grounds. The speaker walked down the steps as Fourier approached, dressed in the ceremonial robes of a Bishop.

    The robes were so much worse than the ones of the normal priests. Unlike theirs, his was coloured in shades of blue said to be reminiscent of the Divine Dragon, and the cuffs of his sleeves were gold. It also had far more fabric than the normal outfits. It must have been killing his back to be wearing it.

    But Jaune was smiling widely, none of that discomfort showing on his face.

    ¡°As you have requested, we have prepared the cathedral for you to call for the Divine Dragon! May he bless us!¡±

    They reached each other at the bottom of the stairs, and Jaune tilted down and then spoke in a soft tone, barely above a whisper. ¡°I¡¯m happy you made the right choice here, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°I only made this choice because you forced my hand,¡± Fourier retorted, similarly quiet.

    Jaune smiled and tilted his head. ¡°That may be so, but I do believe it was the correct thing to do. The people are afraid. They need a gesture, something to help them feel safer.¡±

    ¡°And you think manipulating their ruler will achieve that?¡±

    Jaune chuckled softly, the sound reduced to little more than an exhalation. ¡°I think the sight of the Divine Dragon will achieve that. I think you¡¯ll see what I mean when you meet him.¡±

    Fourier raised an eyebrow. ¡°And I suppose that means you have? If you understand what it means to meet him?¡±

    Jaune shook his head. ¡°No, I cannot claim that. I merely witnessed him flying overhead. I was little more than a child at the time, but it still left an impression on me. The magnificence, the majesty, the divinity of his presence¡­¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Again, you¡¯ll see what I mean when you meet him.¡±

    Fourier narrowed his eyes slightly.

    ¡°That remains to be seen.¡±

    He forced his expression to clear, and turned back to face the civilians who had come to witness the event. The clearing in front of the Cathedral was small enough that there were only a few hundred people in attendance, mostly those of the middle class. The nobles did not generally attend this ceremony, and the poor could not afford to take the day for a ceremony as trivial as this one. Especially when a far more significant event would be taking place in just a few days.

    ¡°I am pleased to see you all gathered here,¡± Fourier started, allowing his eyes to pass over the crowd, giving the impression that he was looking at each and every person individually.

    ¡°These past few months have been difficult for us all. With my father¡¯s sudden death, and the absence of any family to help me with governance, we were unable to complete the ceremonies necessary for my coronation. Until now.¡±

    He spread his arms wide. ¡°I have had the help of many people, and I have witnessed the way you, my loyal subjects, have endeavoured to keep everything running smoothly. I feel I can proudly say that the kingdom will be in safe hands while I complete the ceremony to contact Volcanica.¡±

    The crowd cheered. They were far livelier for this event than they had been for the funeral. That event had been marred by sadness and uncertainty, but this one had rekindled some hope in them.

    Soon everything would go back to normal. Soon they would have a proper king again.

    Soon the Divine Dragon would come.

    Fourier didn¡¯t quite know how he felt about that. It was good that the people could find hope in such things, but he was somewhat more restrained. Volcanica could not help them with their crashing economy, and Fourier found it doubtful that he¡¯d be able to do much to help find the assassins that had murdered his family.

    Still¡­ there was no harm in asking. Fourier would have to consult with him once he arrived.

    <hr>

    Fourier slowly approached the altar, doing his best to ignore the chanting that had slowly begun to fill the chambers. He recognized several of the stanzas from his education on the church¡¯s scriptures, but some were unfamiliar. It took him several long seconds to slowly translate the old language. Jaune had always complained about his lack of diligence, but compared to refining his swordsmanship, it had always fallen to the wayside.

    It turned out that they were going through a chant calling out to Volcanica. Traditionally it was encouraged that the priests of the Divine Dragon would only speak the old language during the ceremony¡ªa position he technically occupied¡ªbut he¡¯d managed to make an exception for himself. It came at the cost of making himself look ignorant, but it would be far worse if he had tried to speak the tongue with his current fluency.

    Fourier took comfort in the steady footsteps behind him, the past few months having ingrained the familiar sounds of Julius¡¯s footsteps. Even better, besides Julius was the familiar stride of Ferris as well. Even if they couldn¡¯t be right by his side, they were only a few steps away, and he allowed their presence to calm the nerves that steadily rose.

    He¡¯d already botched his first impression with his ignorance, so Fourier only hoped that this second one would end up better. He¡¯d need more contacts in the priesthood if he wanted any chance of replacing Jaune in the future.

    Before long, Fourier arrived at the so-called Divine Artefact, the Dragon Caller. It was an elaborate Sceptre carved from pure sapphires, resting next to a large sapphire Obelisk.

    Picking up the Sceptre, Fourier found that it weighed far more than it should, and for a moment was tempted to put it back down.

    Instead he allowed himself a moment to breathe in deeply before he began.

    ¡°In the name of our pact, I, Fourier Lugunica, the forty second King of Lugunica, call upon you to renew our agreement with you, the Divine Dragon Volcanica. May my blood, freely given, hasten your arrival.¡±

    As soon as he finished, Fourier picked up the ritual knife and sliced open his shoulder, the blood unnaturally hovering in the air for several seconds before being drawn into the Sceptre, even as he wrapped both hands around the Sceptre gripping it tightly.

    Seconds after the Sceptre consumed the blood, a soft blue light radiating from it was bright enough that it should have immediately blinded him. Reopening the eyes he hadn¡¯t even realised he closed, Fourier noted that the light still didn¡¯t blind him and that the strain of holding the weight of the Sceptre had disappeared entirely.

    Chains made of the same blue light formed, attaching itself to the Obelisk which slowly started to form its own light.

    The light felt calming, a balm on his self-inflicted wound. Although that could be the blood loss causing him to lose all feelings in his arm.

    After several seconds, the light crescendoed stabilising into a light that appeared solid. It meant that the Sceptre had accepted his offering.

    Being careful not to appear rushed, he took a careful step back, dragging the Sceptre and chains with him. Now that he was connected to it, he couldn¡¯t let go even if he wanted to, but Ferris could at least bandage the wound, and later when he disconnected from it heal him properly.

    For better or worse, with the Sceptre activated he wouldn¡¯t be able to be affected by external magic both beneficial and negative.

    At least the first session should be relatively short, so he¡¯d be able to get the wound looked at soon. Still it¡¯d take a skilled healer to heal such a large wound so quickly, especially without allowing the healer to draw upon his own body to help heal the wound. It made Fourier wonder which healer his own father had used. Admittedly, his father had been larger than he was, so the blood to satisfy the artefact might have taxed his body less, but there had been other slight kings who had used it.

    Either they had healers just as competent as Ferris was, or¡­

    He felt his mind spinning, and suddenly, he just knew the answer. They had filled it a little bit at a time, over the course of a day.

    Sadly his task wasn¡¯t done yet, and so Fourier reached forward to grasp the artefact once more.

    If only it was satisfied with blood alone, with Ferris it would hurt less than this will.

    Closing his eyes, he allowed his mana to connect to the artefact and almost flinched as he felt it follow the connection to his gate.

    Unlike with his blood, he had no ability to control how his mana was provided, the Sceptre seeming content with a slow steady stream that caused Fourier to grit his teeth.

    It was going to be a long day to say the least.

    <hr>

    Ferris sat on his bench, swinging his legs back and forth, his tail flicking left and right.

    He was tense, waiting for something, anything.

    ¡°Julius,¡± he whispered to the knight on the bench beside him.

    ¡°Yes, Felix?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m bored.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I gathered that,¡± Julius remarked, a slight grin on his face. ¡°Try to relax. It won¡¯t be that long before we¡¯ll be finished here.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t¡ª!¡± Ferris exclaimed, then caught himself and lowered his voice to a hushed whisper. ¡°Won¡¯t be that long? We might be trapped in here for a week! I should have stayed outside, then I could be practising!¡±

    ¡°That might be so,¡± Julius responded. He was keeping his body stiff and upright, the picture of a perfect knight.

    ¡°But His Majesty would be lonely if he lacked his closest friends to talk to, in such an pivotal moment. I can assure you, he enjoys the time he spends in your company far more than he does in mine.¡±

    Ferris¡¯s ears flattened. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t say things like that. You¡¯ll make Fourier upset.¡±

    ¡°Then it is truly fortunate that he is not here to hear me,¡± Julius said, the faintest trace of a cheeky smile lighting up his face. Anyone else would have missed it, but Ferris knew the finest knight well enough to see through the gaps in his facade.

    Ferris ceased his idle movements so he could give Julius the side-eye. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t say it anyway. He doesn¡¯t like it when you think like that.¡±

    Julius blinked. ¡°I would not intentionally cause discomfort for His Majesty, but sometimes my personality can cause him exasperation.¡±

    Ferris pressed a hand to his temple and sighed. ¡°If by ¡®personality¡¯, you mean your relentless pursuit of ¡®knightliness¡¯, then yeah, it really does. Sometimes I forget that you¡¯re as much of an oddball knight as Reinhard and I are.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m honoured to be counted among your ranks,¡± Julius said, his smile softening.

    Ferris shook his head, and went back to kicking the air, if Julius refused to relax then he¡¯d just have to do it for the both of them, the only time Ferris had ever seen Julius relax that rigid posture was in private something that couldn¡¯t possibly be healthy.

    They spent a few minutes in silence, both turning their eyes to the door of the sanctum, the room Fourier now occupied.

    ¡°When do you think he¡¯ll be out?¡±

    Julius tilted his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m unfamiliar with the artefact, but from what I understand, His Majesty needs to make sure it is constantly working. From what I saw of the mana around it¡­ perhaps he¡¯ll be a few hours more?¡±

    Ferris sighed again, then sprung to his feet. Roswaal had packed him some books to study while he was trapped in the Cathedral, but he hadn¡¯t expected to need them so soon.

    He couldn¡¯t really practise the techniques contained within, but it would be good to lay the theoretical foundations.

    ¡°Do you need anything from our stuff?¡± he asked Julius.

    The knight shook his head. ¡°No, I am fine. It is nice to relax once in a while.¡±

    ¡°You call this relaxing¡ª!?¡± Ferris cut his cry off and growled in frustration. ¡°Gah!¡±

    Julius chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Everyone has their own ways of doing things.¡±

    Ferris left, still grumbling under his breath.

    The Cathedral halls were quiet and empty. Ferris had expected more activity, but apparently they only had a skeleton crew for the vitally important ceremony, to avoid distracting Fourier. That was the reason Ferris was constraining himself to whispers. Or at the very least, trying to constrain himself.

    The quarters prepared for them weren¡¯t far from the artefact, so it only took a minute for Ferris to get to his room. Choosing a book was a far more difficult task. Roswaal had only prepared the intermediate difficulty ones. Ferris had read over many of them before, but he had lacked the context to properly understand what they were trying to say.

    Perhaps Roswaal had felt he was ready to attempt them for real.

    With a sigh, Ferris picked up the one with the title, ¡®A Collection of Ancient Treatises on Water Magic,¡¯ and trudged out of the room. It was the thinnest of the bunch, and yet was still a rather hefty volume. Ferris supposed he could smack someone over the head with it and do more damage than a brick.

    Not that he would ever consider doing such a thing, of course. It was a precious book of knowledge. A precious book that was worded in old language, and rather difficult to read. A precious book Ferris had¡ªat one point¡ªbeen tempted to hurl across the room in frustration.

    ¡°Ah!¡± a voice cried out, abruptly pulling Ferris out of his reminiscence.

    He looked up to see a purple-haired priestess, dressed in blue robes similar to the ones the Bishop had been wearing, clutching the wall as if she had just stumbled against it.

    ¡°Sorry, sorry,¡± she said, steadying herself and hauling herself upright. ¡°I didn¡¯t see where I was going, so I tripped.¡±

    Ferris glanced at the floor behind her, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then what had she tripped on?

    ¡°Ah, well, you see¡­¡±

    She waved her hands frantically, drawing Ferris¡¯s attention back to her, then cleared her throat and said.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. No.¡±

    She nodded, apparently satisfied that she had deflected that line of questioning, and looked back at Ferris.

    ¡°Hello, dear guest,¡± she said, holding her arms together in front of her, and dropping into a low bow. ¡°I am Melty Pristis, a priest under the tutorship of Bishop Jaune. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.¡±

    Ferris stared at her.

    ¡°Are¡­ you alright?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Hmm? Oh yes, I¡¯m perfectly fine,¡± the priestess replied, righting herself and meeting Ferris¡¯s eyes. ¡°I just stumbled a bit. No need to worry.¡±

    ¡°Well, okay. Oh, I¡¯m Felix Argyle, but my friends call me Ferris,¡± he said, then adjusted his grip on his book to carry it one handed.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet¡ª¡±

    But the priestess had already whirled around, apparently not seeing his proffered hand.

    ¡°If you require, I can accompany you back to the sanctum,¡± she said cheerfully. ¡°These halls can be tricky, you know. If you get lost you might never escape.¡±

    Ferris blinked, then started following after her. Her statement didn¡¯t seem to make much sense. The Cathedral was large, yes, but it was nowhere near the enormity of the palace. There was no way Ferris would get himself lost.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s alright, I can find my way back easily enou¡ª¡±

    ¡°Kyaaa!¡±

    Melty cried out as she somehow managed to trip over her own feet, falling face-first onto the floor.

    ¡°Urgh,¡± she moaned as she lifted herself up.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Ferris asked, discarding his book, and kneeling by her side. Her nose was bleeding and she was cradling her forehead in her hand.

    ¡°Give me a second, I¡¯ll¡ª¡± he started, conjuring a healing orb in his hand, but Melty shook her head rapidly, and leaped to her feet in a well-practised motion.

    ¡°No, no. Don¡¯t worry about it. It happens sometimes,¡± she said, cupping her hands over her face. After a second, her face lit up with the blue light of her own healing orb, and when she retracted her arms, not a trace of blood was left on her face.

    ¡°There! All better!¡±

    She laughed sheepishly. ¡°So sorry to disturb you, Sir Felix.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ er, you can call me Ferris,¡± Ferris responded, caught somewhat off-guard by her behaviour. She seemed oddly cheery for a priest, but Ferris had never interacted with any before, so perhaps they were all like that.

    He picked his book back up and checked the cover. He had taken some modicum of care when he dropped it, so it had landed on its back rather than the spine or the open pages. Luckily, it didn¡¯t seem to have been damaged.

    ¡°Ferris¡­¡± Melty murmured. ¡°I see. Well, Sir Ferris, shall we be on our way?¡±

    She started walking down the hallway. Ferris was almost going to call out and say he didn¡¯t need to be escorted¡­ but it wasn¡¯t that far, so it wouldn¡¯t hurt. Perhaps she had something to do in the sanctum anyway.

    He caught up to her and walked by her side.

    ¡°It¡¯s quite empty, isn¡¯t it?¡± he asked.

    She nodded. ¡°Yes, Bishop Jaune cleared out most of the lower-ranked priests for the ceremony. Even Sakura has left, and she almost never does.¡±

    ¡°Sakura?¡± Ferris asked.

    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s¡­ she¡¯s the church¡¯s treasurer,¡± Melty answered. ¡°I think she had something to do in one of the other shrines in the city. You might meet her, she¡¯ll be back in a few days.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    The conversion died once more. Melty seemed rather nervous in his company. She was paying careful attention to where she was putting her feet, her brows furrowed in determination.

    All that effort not to fall over? Ferris wondered to himself. Can anyone really be that clumsy? Or maybe there¡¯s something wrong with her? I know a few illnesses and injuries can make it more difficult to walk¡­

    ¡°Er, Sister Melty?¡± Ferris asked.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± the priestess asked, turning her head to look at him. Despite her attention being called away from her feet, she continued walking so easily that Ferris began to doubt himself.

    But there was no harm in asking anyway.

    ¡°You seem to be having a bit of difficulty. Do you want me to take a look at you?¡±

    Melty¡¯s eyes widened, and shook her head. ¡°Oh, no, I couldn¡¯t ask you to do such a thing. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    She placed a hand on her chest and smiled proudly. ¡°I¡¯m a healer myself, you know.¡±

    ¡°But¡­¡± Ferris started doubtfully, searching for the words. While her statement might be true, she was very unlikely to even come close to his own skill level.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to brag¡­ but I¡¯m quite a good healer myself. I might pick up on something other healers would miss.¡±

    Melty shook her head, her eyes darting to and fro, never settling on Ferris directly. ¡°Oh, no, it¡¯s quite alright. I¡¯m fine, really! Um, perhaps I should just leave you to¡ª¡±

    Ferris frowned. He was somewhat familiar with her behaviour. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for commoners from isolated villages to be distrustful of healing magic, but Melty¡¯s aversion to it was likely due to something else. As she said, she was a healer herself.

    No, it seemed more likely that she had already tried to heal whatever afflicted her, and had failed. Now she could not bear to get her hopes up only to have them be dashed once more.

    Well¡­ as I always say, better to ask forgiveness than permission!

    He stretched out a hand, healing orb already forming, and Melty¡¯s frantic eyes locked onto it.

    She mouthed wordlessly, a trace of panic in her eyes.

    Then she lunged out and grabbed his hand with both of hers, breaking the spell.

    Ferris wasn¡¯t ready for such an abrupt stop to his magic, and the backlash disorientated him for a moment.

    He managed to focus his eyes on the priestess. She was bent over his hand, so he couldn¡¯t see her face, but he could hear her heavy breathing.

    ¡°Um, it¡¯s really no trouble,¡± he said, ¡°I can just take a look, and then¡­¡±

    ¡°Sir Ferris,¡± Melty interrupted, drawing a ragged breath.

    Ferris was starting to get the feeling that something was odd about the whole situation. Why did she seem to be afraid of his magic?

    ¡°I would really prefer it,¡± she said, then lifted her head to stare directly at him with her iridescent amber eyes. ¡°If you don¡¯t try to heal me.¡±

    Ferris felt a jolt run through him, followed closely after by a sense of guilt.

    For a moment, he couldn¡¯t explain it, then¡­

    Did I really try to heal her, against her will? She probably has her reasons for not wanting to get me involved. I shouldn¡¯t have pushed her so much.

    He retracted his arm, and bowed in apology.

    ¡°I¡¯m very sorry,¡± he said. He was being more formal than he usually would, but he had just been very rude.

    ¡°Oh, um¡­¡± Melty said, eyes darting between his hand and his face. ¡°I¡­ er, yeah. It¡¯s okay. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    She stared at his hand for a moment longer, then slowly retracted her hands.

    ¡°In fact¡­¡±

    She placed a finger on her lips, and gave an awkward smile.

    ¡°...why don¡¯t we keep this a secret? We don¡¯t need to tell anyone.¡±

    Ferris stared at her. Truthfully, he didn¡¯t really want to be scolded by Fourier and Crusch about it, but she would be well within her rights to reveal his actions.

    ¡°...sure,¡± he relented. If she wanted to just skip past it, he supposed that was fine as well.

 The Sacred Rite

    Crusch sighed, still going through the reports that she had put to the side. She¡¯d known that allowing herself to spend any time and resources working together with the parade organisers would cause a backlog.

    The parade had needed to tour the majority of the capital, a feat that was difficult when its passing was such a spectacle. They¡¯d needed to plan for the possibility of the streets being flooded, especially by citizens who would follow along with the procession.

    Thankfully, it had run smoothly, with the Royal Guard keeping Fourier safe, and the citizens indulged without causing an undue mess. It had taken the majority of her staff, but it had proven worth it.

    ¡°Lucius, with the majority of our soldiers now absent, how has the situation in the slums developed?¡± Crusch asked.

    ¡°¡®Deteriorated¡¯ would be the better word,¡± Lucius said darkly. ¡°Nothing serious, as we¡¯ve trained our men far beyond the capability of members of the slum. However the few fights we got into will undoubtedly have damaged what trust we¡¯ve earned. Those still present have had to move in groups, limiting the area they can patrol.¡±

    ¡°Will they need to be rotated out?¡± Crusch wondered knowing just how tense a soldier could be after a skirmish.

    ¡°Hard to say,¡± Lucius grumbled. ¡°If we allow all our soldiers to stand together once more, the united front they¡¯ll pose should deter even the dimmest of those residing in the slums. However, it¡¯s far more likely our men would be less inclined to turn the other cheek, after they insulted them.¡±

    He paused, considering their options.

    ¡°Switching the members who helped organise the parade back in will mean our men would be more calm, but it would mean relying on the slum to not take advantage of our lower numbers. Overall I would favour having all our men together, as if I have to bet on our men following orders or the slums showing wisdom, I know what I¡¯d pick.¡±

    Crusch frowned, but couldn¡¯t disagree with the man, and nodded her acceptance instead.

    ¡°Lucius, do keep in mind that I¡¯ll be visiting Ferris in three days'' time, as His Majesty requested an update, and it will be easier to deliver the information through a knight.¡± Crusch said.

    ¡°Argyle?¡± Lucius repeated a rare tone of bemusement crossing his voice. ¡°I believe His Majesty was hoping that you might deliver that information personally, Lady Crusch.¡±

    ¡°Why would he want that?¡± Crusch wondered. ¡°It¡¯d be far harder, and unnecessarily burn political capital, for me to enter the church¡¯s inner sanctum. Quite frankly His Majesty would likely be better off focusing entirely on the ceremony, but I can understand how he might worry without information. King Fourier cares deeply for Lugunica.¡±

    ¡°I am not disputing His Majesty¡¯s love for Lugunica,¡± Lucius said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°I simply suspect that the presence of his dearest friend will help raise King Fourier¡¯s spirits.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve met His Majesty before, Lucius. I¡¯m confident with Ferris by his side that the two of them are in fine spirits,¡± Crusch said confidently, not noticing the look of mild exasperation on her aide¡¯s face.

    <hr>

    The cathedral was quite an imposing building. While it truthfully wasn¡¯t that much larger than the manors of some noble estates, the towering spires made it seem far greater than them.

    The guards at the gates had been prepared for her arrival, and opened them as she drew close. She stepped through and onto the church grounds.

    It had been only a few days since the parade had ended, but the grounds looked immaculate. There was not a patch of dirt exposed, and the hedges were trimmed neatly.

    Crusch would have expected some browning of the grass considering the amount of people who had been trampling on it. The fact that there was no trace of such a thing meant the church had devoted some of their healers towards maintaining the grounds.

    Perhaps that was wasteful of them, but Crusch vaguely remembered Ferris saying something about it before, that healing plant-life could be good practice for new healers.

    She didn¡¯t spend long thinking on such matters though. She strode down the paved path towards the building, and climbed the steps to the doors.

    She knocked twice, and then the doors slowly rumbled open.

    She stepped inside, and the two priests behind them heaved the doors shut again. It seemed rather difficult work, but the two did not let out a single noise of complaint. Even the doors closed quietly, the only sound they made being a muted thud as they shut fully.

    ¡°Bishop Jaune is currently in prayer,¡± one of them whispered as he stepped back to his place in the alcove beside the entrance. He kept his voice low so as not to disturb the deathly quiet of the interior. ¡°He will be informed of your arrival. There is a meeting room you can wait in, if you prefer.¡±

    ¡°I know the way,¡± Crusch whispered back. ¡°I will wait there.¡±

    The priest nodded and Crusch turned down the corridor, away from the door that led to the main hall.

    She found herself slightly unsure as she reached a split in the corridor, and after a brief pause, she guessed the way she was supposed to be going, based on her half-faded memories of the place.

    She had not been to the cathedral in a very long time. Not since she was a young girl, accompanying her father to meet with the then-bishop, Jaune¡¯s predecessor. She had forgotten that bishop¡¯s name, a testament to how little the church usually mattered in the politics of the kingdom.

    She reached another split, and hesitated.

    Perhaps it would be better to go back and ask for directions. There was nobody around, so she wasn¡¯t even sure if she was heading toward the right place. And if she got lost, she might stumble upon the sanctum. It wouldn¡¯t do to appear to be trying to sneak into that area. She had to be sure not to antagonise Bishop Jaune. They were there to rebuild relations, not worsen them.

    She hoped that the confirmation that everything was proceeding smoothly from Ferris would help keep His Majesty calm.

    She turned to go back the way she came, but then she heard something.

    A shout of anger, or perhaps another strong emotion.

    She glanced over her shoulder.

    Perhaps she had imagined it? Why would someone be shouting while the quiet of the ceremony was still being imposed?

    Why indeed, unless something was wrong?

    By the time the thought registered, Crusch was already moving. Her hand went to her sword, though she didn¡¯t draw it yet.

    But if those insects or some other assassin had entered the cathedral, she would¡­

    She heard the shout again, a woman¡¯s voice, which sounded strangely familiar. This time she could make out the words, though indistinctly.

    ¡°...could you have let this happen! Do you know¡­ ¡­while I was¡­ ¡­could have been a disaster!¡±

    Crusch slowed her steps. That didn¡¯t sound like the voice of someone under attack.

    But she still felt the need to investigate. What had happened to rouse such anger?

    ¡°...if I was the one who¡ª¡±

    As Crusch turned a corner, the voice suddenly cut out, and then she heard a fainter, quieter tone.

    A door opened ahead of her, and the voice said, ¡°Return to your quarters. Do not make the same mistake again.¡±

    A priestess in dark blue robes rushed out of the room, her emotions swirling with fear, panic, and yet also relief. No doubt she was glad to get out of her scolding.

    She was followed closely after by a woman in a magenta uniform, the standard for an official of Civil Affairs.

    It was a woman Crusch recognised, though it took a moment for her to recall her name.

    ¡°Sakura,¡± she whispered. She was the person who had informed Crusch about the rumours in the city. None had much substance, but she had provided a lead when Crusch was lacking them.

    The woman turned her head towards Crusch, her eyes widening in surprise, though it was impossible to tell from her emotions.

    Sakura was angry. It was an anger bordering on rage, though it calmed considerably every second that she stood there.

    ¡°Lady Karsten,¡± she greeted, her anger giving way to frustration and weariness. ¡°I apologise for that display. It was not¡­ tactful of me, especially while such an important ceremony is taking place.¡±

    ¡°I cannot speak to such things,¡± Crusch said. ¡°The authority of the ceremony is possessed by the church, it would not be my place to interfere.¡±

    Sakura sighed. ¡°Yes, I suppose so. But as the Treasurer, I have a duty to set an example for the rank-and-file.¡±

    Crusch could understand that feeling well. As a leader of troops, she always had to comport herself on the battlefield. Blind rage like what Sakura had shown was wildly inappropriate. But now she seemed to have mostly calmed down. The anger had dissipated, replaced by frustration, and weariness had begun to set in.

    There was also a glimmer of apprehension around her, directed at Crusch herself. It wasn¡¯t quite fear, but Sakura clearly knew she had overstepped in her discipline of her junior.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, what did she do?¡± Crusch asked.

    Sakura¡¯s emotions spiked, but she calmed down quickly. ¡°Hah¡­ yes, I suppose I should mention it. She encountered one of the knights outside the sanctum, and was quite rude while dealing with him.¡±

    Crusch blinked. ¡°Is that all? You don¡¯t need to worry, neither Sir Julius nor Sir Felix would take offence that easily.¡±

    Sakura nodded. ¡°Yes, I know, but from Melty¡¯s description of the incident¡­¡±

    She paused, appearing to search for the words. ¡°...she was unwise, in the way she dealt with it. Luckily, the knight did not take offence, just as you say, but I shudder to think what might have happened had she insulted a less reasonable person.¡±

    The flow of her emotions was jumbled slightly, as if she had come close to an untruth, but that was likely due to her current mental state. She spoke what she knew was true, even if it seemed that at the moment, she didn¡¯t feel like shuddering in the slightest if her junior got hurt.

    Sakura sighed again, and rubbed her shoulder. ¡°She has always been a problem child, clumsy and unthinking. Mama was too easy on her. If she knew how to behave properly¡­¡±

    ¡°Mama?¡± Crusch asked. ¡°Are you related? I didn¡¯t realise.¡±

    Sakura looked over to her, then the words seemed to register, and her emotions jolted.

    ¡°Er, no¡­ what I meant was¡­¡±

    She paused, then let out a nervous laugh. ¡°Ah, I let my mouth run. No, we¡¯re not related. Mama¡­ took Melty in when she was young. Mama tried with her, but Melty was never part of the family the way my siblings and I are.¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°When Melty was selected as an apprentice to the Bishop, Mama asked me to take a position here to look after her. After all, there¡¯s always a place in the church for civil affairs officials. Too much work to do, too few hands to do it.¡±

    ¡°I see. So that¡¯s why you were so defensive,¡± Crusch said, understanding finally dawning on her.

    Sakura looked at her in confusion, and tilted her head.

    ¡°You truly care for your sister, do you not?¡± Crusch asked, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. ¡°To the extent that you worry over her every little action.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Sakura blinked.

    ¡°That is¡­ I suppose¡­¡±

    She paused for a moment.

    ¡°Well, I suppose the bond between sisters runs deeper than I realised,¡± she finally allowed.

    She seemed to hold a great deal of doubt in her heart, but Crusch was convinced. There was no other reason she would get so worked up over such a simple thing.

    Sakura shook her head.

    ¡°Well, regardless of that matter, I take it you are here today to speak to Bishop Jaune? I apologise, I¡¯ve been off the grounds until recently, so I have not familiarised myself with the schedule. I believe Jaune is in prayer at the moment, but I can guide you to a waiting room if you so desire.¡±

    Crusch nodded. ¡°Yes, I would be grateful if you would.¡±

    <hr>

    Fourier sighed and let his arms fall back to his side.

    A faint light glowed around the Sceptre as it finished absorbing his mana, then it faded away, leaving only the Obelisk still shining.

    What he had given it would let it last for another few hours, long enough for him to get some sleep. With his mana as drained as it was, he desperately wanted to lie down and forget the world for a while.

    He got to his feet, wobbling a bit as he left his chair, his legs not fully prepared for the load he was putting on them.

    He smiled wryly. It was almost as bad as the first week after the curse had been broken. Thankfully this time, he didn¡¯t need his cane to walk, but he wasn¡¯t fond of the way his legs trembled when he moved.

    He reached the sanctum door, and slowly pushed it open, as quietly as he could.

    His consideration was in vain, as both Julius and Ferris were standing at attention right outside.

    He frowned at them. ¡°What are you two doing? It must be well past nightfall by now. Why are you still up?¡±

    Ferris didn¡¯t bother to answer, moving to Fourier¡¯s side and creating a healing orb. There wasn¡¯t much he could do, but Ferris still did it anyway. Even if the magic could only transfer a little extra mana over to Fourier, it helped take the edge off the weariness he felt.

    ¡°We could say the same to you,¡± Julius responded, his mouth a thin line. ¡°You¡¯ve been pushing yourself far beyond what is reasonable again.¡±

    Fourier sighed, and didn¡¯t resist when Ferris moved under his arm to help support his weight.

    It was the truth. He had been pushing himself. Perhaps too much. But he couldn¡¯t simply sit back and do nothing.

    ¡°After tomorrow, this will be the longest any heir has gone without the Divine Dragon responding,¡± Fourier said. ¡°If there¡¯s any chance that I can speed things up by remaining longer, I have to try.¡±

    Almost a full week had passed since Fourier had entered the church. In that time, Crusch had come to visit once, bringing a small window into the goings-on in the outside world. He had met with Jaune twice, learning a little each time, but his last meeting with the bishop had been several days ago.

    The only news he was getting was the second-hand reports that were delivered to the church each day, mere summaries of the events that were transpiring.

    And they were not good.

    Unease was growing in the population, as the days dragged on with no sign of the Divine Dragon. Crusch¡¯s movements in the slums seemed to have decreased the frequency of the insect attacks, but her soldiers patrols seemed to be creating an equal amount of unrest.

    Miklotov¡¯s notes warned of the court increasingly fracturing in his absence, and Russel noted that economic activity had taken a sharp downturn.

    Uncertainty was reigning over his kingdom, and the cause was clear.

    The Divine Dragon had not yet come.

    But there was nothing Fourier could do to hurry things along. He was operating the artefact as he was supposed to, and he was waiting as patiently as he could.

    Patience wasn¡¯t going to solve the issues facing the kingdom, but it was the only avenue available to him. He could not demand the Divine Dragon¡¯s presence, he could not contact him directly to ask why he was taking so long. All he could do was wait, pouring his mana into the Sceptre, hoping that he would finally show up.

    ¡°It would do no good for you to be in this state when the Divine Dragon finally does arrive,¡± Julius said, moving to support Fourier¡¯s other shoulder, helping to guide him towards the sleeping quarters. ¡°You need to rest.¡±

    Fourier wanted to argue, but his eyes were practically drooping closed, and he was unable to come up with a valid counterargument.

    He would think better after some sleep, and he did need to be rested for when Volcanica arrived.

    But a feeling remained. It was a slight thing, separate to the doubt and confusion the situation had brought. It was a feeling in his heart, one that suffused every fibre of his being, one that he would usually call his intuition. And that feeling was crying out as loud as it possibly could, that something had gone terribly, horribly wrong.

    <hr>

    ¡°This is because of him!¡±

    The voice echoed throughout the church, breaking the silence that had held since the day Fourier had first arrived.

    Fourier stood alone in the sanctum, still pouring his mana into the artefact, but he could hear the argument raging right outside the door.

    It was the beginning of his ninth day in the church, and the third day past the point of the previous longest time without receiving a response from Volcanica.

    Discontent had been steadily growing over the days, and now it had even emerged in the heart of the church itself.

    ¡°He is unworthy! The Divine Dragon has made his thoughts clear! That ¡®prince¡¯ cannot lead us!¡±

    Fourier was good with voices, and despite only hearing this one a handful of times, he could instantly recognise it. It belonged to one of the priests that had remained to guard the church, a rather tall man if Fouier remembered correctly.

    The man was shouting with a rage bordering on madness, and Fourier could hear frantic whispers coming from all around the speaker. How many were trying to prevent the man from speaking further, and how many were voicing their agreement, Fourier couldn¡¯t say.

    ¡°His Majesty, Prince Fourier, is the ruler of this kingdom.¡±

    Julius¡¯s voice echoed through the sanctum. He had been unwilling to speak above a whisper until a short while ago. Now he was speaking loudly and firmly, and Fourier had already heard the metallic schwing that signified his sword being drawn. The situation was deteriorating rapidly, to force him to go so far.

    ¡°Our duty is to guard His Majesty until the Divine Dragon does arrive,¡± the knight continued. ¡°And even if you have forgotten that mission, I have not. Leave now, you are disturbing the ceremony.¡±

    ¡°Our mission is to safeguard the Chosen of Volcanica!¡± the priest retorted. ¡°It has become clear that the prince is not chosen! He must be removed so that Volcanica can put our rightful ruler on the throne!¡±

    It was silly, how fear made people lose their rationality. Even if Fourier was removed, how would they get Volcanica to grant them a new ruler? The fact that the kingdom was unable to talk to him was the entire problem they were facing.

    Fourier felt the draw on his mana begin to slacken, as the artefact finally started to dim. He had set it to deactivate as soon as he heard the trouble brewing outside, but it was a temperamental object, and needed time to switch states.

    ¡°Again, I must ask you to leave,¡± Julius said, his voice now distinctly more threatening. ¡°If you have a problem, please discuss the matter with Bishop Jaune. I am sure he will be able to bring your concerns to His Majesty.¡±

    The artefact finally let loose its grasp on Fourier, and his arms collapsed to his side. He took a moment to stretch his limbs and make sure he looked presentable, then he strode to the door, not allowing his own doubt to show on his face.

    ¡°He can speak to me directly,¡± he said, as he opened the door to the sanctum. ¡°I would hate for my subjects to feel their concerns are unheard.¡±

    True to form, Julius was standing between the small gathering of priests and the doorway Fourier stood in, his sword pointed at the ground, and his six spirits swirled around him.

    There were five priests standing opposite the knight, one of whom was red-faced and furious, the other four considerably more restrained.

    Fourier glanced over their faces, trying to feel out where their feelings lay. One seemed to agree with the angry one, another seemed on the fence, and the last two had their hands on the angry one¡¯s shoulders, holding him back from making any sudden moves.

    Fourier also spotted Ferris, standing inconspicuously at the back of the room, his ears flat against his head. Usually he was so cheerful and upbeat, but now his face was blank, his gaze locked on the angry priest, one hand held slightly away from his body, fingers curled as if they were claws.

    Ferris didn¡¯t have enough demi-human blood to actually transform his nails into claws, but if he decided to use his magic, then he¡¯d do far more damage than simple slashes.

    The priests were fools for focusing solely on Julius. At least the Finest Knight would try and spare them any pain as he knocked them out.

    ¡°You!¡± the angry priest shouted as his eyes focused on Fourier. ¡°What have you been doing!? What are you doing here? Are you already tired of using the artefact?¡±

    Understanding seemed to dawn on him, and he snarled. ¡°Or have you just been sitting in there, refusing to use it! You won¡¯t call the Divine Dragon, because you know you¡¯re not worthy to stand before him!¡±

    Fourier sighed. ¡°First you think he won¡¯t come, then you say I won¡¯t call him. Surely you must realise those are incompatible thoughts?¡±

    Fourier really wanted to press on with that line of inquiry, but he knew logic never worked on those so angry that they began to entertain delusions. It was better to speak to what he already understood.

    ¡°The Divine Dragon is not beholden to anyone in the kingdom, not even someone of royal blood,¡± Fourier said. ¡°He is in a contract with our Dragon Kingdom of Lugunica, first created by Farsale Lugunica, the only one we can say approached his equal. The fact that he has not arrived to speak with us, or written anything new on the dragon tablet, merely says that he is occupied with something far more important.¡±

    Fourier spoke as confidently as he could, trying to project firm belief. That was the most rational explanation for Volcanica¡¯s absence that he could come up with, but he still found it lacking. Why had the dragon simply chosen to leave Lugunica alone? Why had he not written anything on the tablet after Fourier¡¯s father died? Why was he leaving them to their own devices for so long?

    ¡°The Divine Dragon likely has many concerns,¡± Fourier continued. ¡°Perhaps he has business beyond the Great Waterfall. Perhaps he is in communion with other true dragons across the world. Or perhaps he is busy maintaining the Witch of Envy¡¯s seal.¡±

    A flash of fear passed over the priests¡¯ faces when he uttered those last words. Fourier could see the doubt rising on their faces. While they knew the coronation of their king was important, there was no one who would say that it was more important than ensuring the Witch did not break loose.

    The angry one was not convinced, but Fourier could already see that he was a lost cause. The main purpose of his words was to defuse the doubt in the other priests, and in that, at least, he had succeeded.

    ¡°Julius, see them out,¡± he said, turning back to the sanctum. ¡°And if you would, send for Bishop Jaune.¡±

    <hr>

    A couple of hours later, the lights connecting the Sceptre to the Obelisk slowly dimmed to nothing for the second time that day, and Fourier gently placed the Sceptre down. His arms were numb from the amount of mana that had been drained out of them, but he stretched and worked a bit of feeling back into them.

    He walked to the sanctum door, his hands brushing over his clothes to make sure he looked presentable, then he opened the door.

    Jaune was already waiting there. Fourier had half-expected him to still be waiting in his office for Fourier to leave the sanctum, but it appeared that the Bishop was not yet upset enough to make a prince wait.

    Julius was standing at attention right beside the sanctum door. Fourier had not heard him move away from that position once since those priests had entered the waiting area. Even now he had positioned his body in a way that would allow him to draw his sword at a moment¡¯s notice.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Jaune greeted as his eyes alighted on Fourier, bowing low with one hand over his heart. ¡°I¡¯m very glad to see you are still in good health.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you are,¡± Fourier said. ¡°But your subordinates seemed not to share that opinion. I¡¯m sure you know exactly why I wished to speak to you.¡±

    Jaune sighed, and righted himself, his hands falling behind his back.

    ¡°I must apologise for their display earlier, Your Majesty. I have no idea what got into them.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°I personally chose those who would remain in the church, and I was certain that I had only picked those who would cause no disturbance. I was wrong.¡±

    Fourier tilted his head. ¡°You don¡¯t deny it?¡±

    Jaune shook his head. ¡°I would never. What they did was inexcusable, and I have already sent them away. Even if they had not insulted you so directly, I would do the same. To doubt the Divine Dragon¡­ to doubt the wisdom of these trials he has laid out for us¡­¡±

    He sighed again. ¡°I cannot imagine what was going through their heads.¡±

    ¡°That may be so, but clearly, something was,¡± Fourier said. ¡°And they reached this place, barely a step away from the sanctum, with only my own sworn knights to protect me. You can understand that this is unacceptable. Even if you have sent the culprits away, who is to say there are not others among the priesthood who feel similarly? Others who might do more than what those few did?¡±

    Jaune lifted his head to meet Fourier¡¯s gaze, and his eyes were filled with utmost sincerity. ¡°I understand your concerns, and if you feel additional steps are appropriate, then I shall do my best to accommodate.¡±

    ¡°And if I feel that the ceremony should be cancelled?¡± Fourier pressed.

    Jaune hesitated. ¡°With the attitude in the city at the moment¡­ I can¡¯t recommend it. But if Your Majesty feels that would be the best option¡­¡±

    His brows furrowed, and Fourier could see as his mind raced, trying to come up with some solution. He expected most of his thoughts would be trying to think of a method to convince Fourier to continue with the ceremony, but the fact that he was seriously considering it seemed to suggest that he was engaging in good faith.

    ¡°I do not intend to stop the ceremony,¡± Fourier said. ¡°Not yet. But I am concerned by Volcanica¡¯s continued absence. It might become necessary to put this ceremony on hold if this takes much longer.¡±

    Jaune nodded. ¡°I can understand that. If you decide it is necessary, I will make sure the transition is handled smoothly. This is a trial, but it is a trial that the Divine Dragon believes we can handle.¡±

    Fourier sighed. He had Jaune¡¯s full cooperation at the moment, but he didn¡¯t want to rely on that to last. He trusted Jaune too little for that at the moment.

    ¡°And what of the ceremony as it stands? If your priests are unable to guard the sanctum, then that puts me at risk.¡±

    Jaune nodded. ¡°I have spent some thought on that. I believe it would be best if we granted your sworn knights access to the sanctum itself.¡±

    Fourier blinked, momentarily stunned as he took in Jaune¡¯s words. The inner sanctum of the church was the most sacred place in the building. It was off-limits to any but the highest ranks of the church.

    ¡°Your subordinates would accept that? You would accept that?¡±

    Jaune bowed his head. ¡°It is unfortunate, and a violation of long-honoured traditions, but the same could be said of my subordinate¡¯s earlier display. Ultimately, Your Majesty¡¯s safety is more important than those traditions.¡±

    Fourier let the silence drag on for a moment while he thought things through. Jaune was making a major concession, something which he had undoubtedly settled on in an attempt to defuse some of Fourier¡¯s anger.

    It had worked, Fourier had to admit, but he wouldn¡¯t let something like that get in the way of his rationality. And rationally, he needed more than just a little extra safety.

    ¡°I will need others to also have access to the sanctum,¡± he said. ¡°The time between updates is too little at the moment, and I¡¯m not fully aware of the situation outside these walls. At least one messenger a day must be able to report to me.¡±

    From the look on his face, Jaune didn¡¯t like that one bit, but he nodded anyway. ¡°I understand. However, I would at least prefer if the messengers Your Majesty chooses come from the Royal Knights. It is much easier to justify their presence in the sanctum than it would be for others.¡±

    Fourier considered the proposal. He would have preferred if Crusch would also be allowed to enter¡­ but he couldn¡¯t justify pulling her away from her work more than he already was, and Jaune was already making major concessions.

    He nodded. ¡°That is workable. Get a message to Captain Marcos, and have him send a delegate to work out a schedule.¡±

    Jaune bowed again. ¡°I¡¯m glad we could work this out peaceably, Your Majesty. Let us hope that the Divine Dragon arrives soon.¡±

 Interlude: The Last Days of Peace

    ¡°Plum, don¡¯t go too far!¡±

    The gruff man¡¯s voice called out, echoing slightly in the silence of the evening streets. The man stiffened at the sound, and his eyes flicked between the alleys. It was unnerving, the way the city had grown so quiet over the last few weeks.

    ¡°Okay!¡± a young girl called back, and then, not two seconds later, she went running even further.

    ¡°Hey wait! Plum!¡± her friend called out, not following her out into the street. ¡°We should stay around here!¡±

    The kid had a good head on his shoulders. The man nodded with approval as he returned to packing his merchandise. He had been leery when his wife had asked him to look after one of Plum¡¯s friends as well¡ªespecially in such uncertain times¡ªbut perhaps having him around would help to temper her tendency to wander off.

    However, that approval was quickly soured by the boy¡¯s next words.

    ¡°Mom said I have to listen to Mister Appa Man!¡±

    Mister Appa Man?

    Kadomon glanced over at the cheeky brat. He supposed that a child would not usually refer to him by name, so ¡®Mister Risch¡¯ was probably too much to ask for, but surely he¡¯d be able to manage ¡®your Dad¡¯?

    However, he ultimately decided not to bring up the nickname. If the kid would listen to ¡®Mister Appa Man¡¯, then ¡®Mister Appa Man¡¯ he would be. And he supposed it could have been worse. He could have been called ¡®Scary Scar Man¡¯.

    He turned back to his merchandise, a crate full of the appas that had undoubtedly given rise to that name. It wasn¡¯t the only fruit he sold, but it was by far the most popular one. If you could call it ¡®popular¡¯.

    He had almost finished packing the last of them away for the day. He had never sold many, but now that the city was so uneasy, his sales had been plummeting.

    He sighed. His wife¡¯s family had enough contacts with the larger stores that he¡¯d been able to sell wholesale and support them all, but these days those were practically the only ones he sold. Raksha didn¡¯t mind him relying on them, but Kadomon preferred to try and make a living with his own skill, as unsuccessful as that usually turned out.

    He glanced over to check on Plum and her friend again, then started shutting down the stall, moving the crates of fruit back into the small storefront that he rented.

    Usually Raksha would help out by moving the lighter boxes, but these days, they felt it was important to have all the daily errands done before the evening, so they could be home before sunset.

    He had heard of the horrific murders that had been taking place in the slums recently. The guards had been fairly hushed about it, but the rumours hadn¡¯t described anything good.

    He shivered, glancing back to Plum.

    She was fine, as she always was. He was probably overreacting. But better to fear too much than to fear too little.

    ¡°Plum, come here,¡± he called, shutting the storefront door, and turning the lock closed. ¡°We¡¯re going home.¡±

    ¡°Aw! We¡¯re playing!¡± she called back. ¡°Can¡¯t we have five more minutes?¡±

    Kadomon was tempted to allow it for a moment¡­ but only a very slight moment.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be able to play tomorrow,¡± he said. ¡°Come on, we need to have dinner.¡±

    ¡°Nooo, I¡¯m not hungry,¡± she complained, but she did put a hand to her stomach, apparently only now realising that she was, in fact, hungry.

    ¡°Come on,¡± he said, bending over to scoop her up with one arm. She struggled a bit in his grasp, then settled into a more comfortable position for her.

    ¡°Here, you too,¡± Kadomon said, leaning down to pick her friend up as well. The boy struggled a lot more, though that seemed to be mostly due to being less familiar with being picked right off the ground. He had to admit, he had quite forgotten the boy¡¯s name. Hopefully he wouldn¡¯t need to use it before he could ask Raksha to remind him what it was.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been told you¡¯re eating with us today,¡± he said, beginning the trek to their home. ¡°Your parents will be along later to pick you up.¡±

    The boy nodded, and looked around wide-eyed, evidently enamoured with being so high off the ground.

    Lately, he had taken to carrying Plum when out and about. It helped with her tendency to go a little bit too far afield, and more importantly, gave him some peace of mind.

    Kadomon rarely admitted it to himself, but he was a scary looking person. He was big, strong, and had a nasty scar over his left eye that spoke of a warrior¡¯s past. He hadn¡¯t actually been a warrior in the past, but he was fairly sure no one would be able to tell.

    He was intimidating enough that few wanted to mess with him, not even when he was carrying two children on his shoulders.

    He didn¡¯t encounter many as he walked through the streets, at least in comparison to how the city used to be. There were still quite a few, but the atmosphere around them was notably different. There were less children, for one, and every person who passed gave him wary looks.

    He reached an intersection, and slowed his steps so he could look down the main street.

    The palace rose in the distance, a giant watching over the entire city.

    The last surviving member of the royal family wouldn¡¯t be there. Prince Fourier had started the ceremony to call the Divine Dragon, so he would be in the cathedral. But the palace was the symbol of him, so it was to the palace that the people looked.

    The Prince had thrown a great parade when the ceremony had begun. Plum had a lot of fun that day, and it had been all that Kadomon could do to keep an eye on her. The people had celebrated. They thought the Divine Dragon¡¯s appearance would mark the end of the unrest that the deaths of the royal family had caused.

    But that had been a week and a half ago. And there was still no sign of the Divine Dragon.

    Kadomon turned away from the palace, and kept walking.

    The evening air had grown chill, and the sun was hiding behind a cloud. Kadomon shivered, and it was only partially due to the cold.

    <hr>

    ¡°I¡¯m tellin¡¯ yuh, sshomething¡­ sshtrange is goin¡¯ on!¡±

    The man¡¯s drunken slurs were difficult to make out, but Diedrick Ludolf was well experienced in interpreting his elder brother¡¯s words.

    ¡°You¡¯re quite right,¡± he said, not looking up from his documents. ¡°It¡¯s very strange.¡±

    ¡°Yesh! It ish!¡± Sarwin Ludolf exclaimed, gesticulating wildly and spilling alcohol everywhere. Diedrick winced as he saw some splash onto the couch, but he held his tongue. He¡¯d rather that Sarwin get drunk at home and ruin some of the furniture than let him get drunk in a tavern somewhere and ruin the Ludolf family¡¯s reputation.

    Not that there was much of that left to ruin. Diedrick held back a sigh as he examined the paper he was holding. It was filled with arrays of numbers and calculations, all adding up to a very simple fact.

    The Ludolf estate had no income. Rather, they were heavily in the negative, and quickly running out of funds. At his most optimistic calculations, they only had a month before there was no money left. At his most pessimistic¡­

    Well, there was a reason Sarwin had taken to drinking.

    ¡°Are yuh listenin¡¯?¡± his brother asked. ¡°I¡¯m tellin¡¯ yuh, the prinsh did sshomtin¡¯, and now the dragon¡¯s angry!¡±

    It took a second longer than usual for Diedrick to parse those words, but when he did, his head shot up in shock, the family¡¯s terrible finances temporarily forgotten.

    ¡°You can¡¯t say that!¡± he exclaimed, then blinked in surprise at his own volume.

    His shout seemed to have dragged Sarwin back to his senses, at least a little, because now his eyes were focusing on Diedrick properly, and there was a trace of anger in them.

    Diedrick continued unabated, though in a quieter tone. ¡°Just think, what would happen if someone heard you? You can¡¯t say things like that.¡±

    Sarwin frowned, his anger fading as his mind worked through the implications of Diedrick¡¯s statement. He huffed and took another swig from his bottle.

    His eyes were drooping now, so perhaps he was finally going to nod off. Diedrick checked the window, but the sky was still relatively bright. He had a few hours of daylight left.

    ¡°Buh it¡¯s true,¡± Sarwin mumbled, leaning down to lie on the couch, spilling what few drops remained in the bottle onto the floor. ¡°If it¡¯s no¡¯, then where¡¯sh tha dragon?¡±

    His breath slowly became more even, and in a few moments, he began snoring.

    Diedrick took that as his cue to leave. He gathered the documents from the table, and carefully extracted himself from the room, being careful not to make the slightest of sounds.

    He spared one last look back before shutting the door, and let out a very quiet sigh.

    ¡°Where indeed?¡±

    He spent a minute sorting out the documents, removing a small number of them and putting them in a package. They were the ones concerning a small village at the northern edge of their territory. In good years, long since past, that village had been the cornerstone of the Ludolf family¡¯s estate, its good soil and easily accessible water source granting it almost unparalleled crop yields.

    Those yields had fallen off in recent times, but it was still one of the few positive sources of income for the estate, which made it valuable to the family. And more importantly, valuable to others.

    If he could trade it away in exchange for more funds, that would let them subsist for a few months more. Perhaps even half a year.

    In that time¡­ they¡¯d be able to figure something out, right?

    He strode to the front door, package in hand, and left the manor.

    He did not tell the staff to avoid the sitting room, nor did he tell them to remain quiet so as to not wake his brother. He didn¡¯t need to. Every last one of them had been let go, not two weeks prior.

    The Ludolf manor was located at the very edge of the noble¡¯s district, almost within the merchant¡¯s district. That had been a sore spot for quite a few generations of Ludolfs, but Diedrick was secretly quite pleased with the arrangement. The land taxes were lower, and the walk into the city proper wasn¡¯t all that far.

    The air had been growing chiller as winter started blowing in, so Diedrick was glad to have that shorter journey. He had his thick cloak, but that did little to blunt the winds nipping at his face.

    The first thing that stood out to him as he entered the commoners¡¯ section of the city was that there were more people around than usual.

    That wasn¡¯t too odd by itself, but with how quiet the city had been in recent days, Diedrick found it slightly suspicious.

    They were gathering in one of the large market squares that dotted the city, though these days few merchants were peddling goods there.

    He wanted to make sure to get to his meeting with the first potential buyer for the village, a noble who bordered the Ludolf lands, but Diedrick had set off early, so he was in no danger of missing it, even if he spent a little while satisfying his curiosity.

    He navigated his way through the crowds, bumping into more than a few other civilians as he made his way towards the square. Most people would be more careful with a noble, but in his woollen cloak, Diedrick was indistinguishable from a normal commoner.

    He could hear shouting and murmuring as he approached, and he spotted a number of people leaving the area, their eyes darting across the people in their path, tensed up as if ready to run.

    Diedrick watched a few of them with curiosity. It felt like there was much to be fearful of in recent days, but to still feel that way amidst a crowd of other citizens? What could have caused such a reaction?

    He continued moving into the square, past more people who looked as though they felt they should be leaving too, but seemed unable to drag themselves away.

    Diedrick followed their gazes, hoping to finally see what the commotion was about.

    At the centre of the market, standing on top of a stall so he was clearly visible even past the crowd. He was ranting and raving to high heaven, his hands waving wildly, almost like Sarwin did when he was on one of his worst tirades.

    Clearly, the man was the source of the shouting Diedrick had heard. He had not been paying attention to it before, but now he strained his ears to try and make out the words.

    ¡°...failed us! And our enemies are looking at us even now! How long will it be before Vollachia decides to attack us? Or the great Mabeasts return once more to terrorise our lands?¡±

    There were some murmurs of agreement from the crowd.

    Diedrick saw a commotion in the crowd near the speaker, and enough of the crowd moved away that he caught a glimpse of the source, a number of armoured men.

    The city guards? I guess he is causing a public disturbance, but most people don¡¯t seem too bothered by him¡­

    ¡°That is why!¡± the speaker continued, shouting out with renewed vigour at the sight of the guards.

    ¡°That is why, we must replace the prince!¡±

    Diedrick did a double take, and his eyes snapped back to the man.

    ¡°A prince who lived, even though the rest of his family died from a ¡®mysterious illness¡¯!? A prince who refused to call for the Divine Dragon, and instead chose to rule as king without receiving the dragon¡¯s blessing!? A prince who still has not been recognised by the Dragon, even after calling for almost two weeks!? He is a traitor! A murderer! And until we remove him, the Dragon will not aid us!¡±

    At that point, the guards reached him, and one leapt onto the stall, tackling the speaker and dragging him out of sight.

    Diedrick stood stunned, as the spell seemed to break over the crowd, and they started dispersing.

    At some level, he knew that people had started feeling that way, but he had thought most had confined such thoughts to their drunken ramblings. Preferably private ones, held with only those who were deeply trusted.

    But if that man felt he could speak so openly, and so many felt they could listen¡­

    Are those kinds of opinions really so widely held?

    Diedrick shivered, but it wasn¡¯t due to the cold.

    What is the world coming to?

    <hr>

    ¡°Commander, here are the newest reports,¡± one of the city¡¯s guardsmen said. He seemed unprofessionally nervous to have such a high-ranking person present, but Lucius was willing to overlook it. He was borrowing one of their guard posts to use as his headquarters, so he would be polite.

    ¡°Give me a summary,¡± Lucius said, raising his eyes to meet the nervous young man, never stopping the process of writing his own report.

    ¡°The riots are rapidly spreading, as more and more hotspots form,¡± the man read out, before continuing even more nervously, ¡°There have been some suggestions that you organise the guardsman with less training, and have them sent to the riots, or possibly attend to them in person.¡±

    Lucius shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯d do that if these were just our enemies, sadly collateral damage and the training required for non-lethal measures need our more experienced personnel,¡± he said, dismissing the idea out of hand. ¡°None of you have ever served in the military, or been under direct command. Even if I did command you, there¡¯s even odds it¡¯d cause more problems. No, I''m better here, making sense of all of this chaos, and figuring out who caused it all to start.¡±

    ¡°Start?¡± the man said, tilting his head in confusion. ¡°Isn¡¯t that simply because of all of the fear that¡¯s been spreading lately?¡±

    ¡°Hardly,¡± Lucius said, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°Use your head, kid. No riot would escalate this fast, or have its leadership have so much inside information needed to effectively avoid our initial patrols.¡±

    No, there was something else at play here.

    ¡°Can we even handle this at all then sir?¡± the guardsman asked, his face going paling. ¡°I don¡¯t think any of us are prepared for this.¡±

    ¡°Prepared or not, it doesn''t matter now,¡± Lucius growled, flicking his pen with a final flourish and setting aside the report. ¡°I¡¯ll figure something out, and that starts with me talking to the leader of those civilians we arrested.¡±

    They didn¡¯t have the manpower or prison space to detain every rioter, but Lucius¡¯s subordinates had managed to arrest a few, including one particular ringleader who had just been brought in.

    It only took a minute for him to walk the distance to the guard post¡¯s jail cells.

    ¡°Are you going to tell me anything about the person behind all of this?¡± Lucuis asked darkly, making a show of slowly withdrawing his blade.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you that there¡¯s no one behind all of this!¡± shouted the dishevelled young man, even as he strained against the chains binding him to the prison wall.

    ¡°You''re not convincing me, miscreant,¡± Lucius snarled back, all too used to intimidating young, brazen men. At times, it felt the army was filled with nothing but them.

    ¡°I must admit, the culprit is clever, dozens of seemingly unrelated people have been gathering for protests for this entire week. It¡¯d be enough to make most think that it was all organic.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead and use that blade of yours and prove us right,¡± the prisoner yelled defiantly. ¡°All it¡¯d do is prove that you''re as big a piece of shit as your ¡®Prince¡¯. All you''re looking for is an excuse to hurt us commoners! Pieces of shit like you, who worship that blasphemous Prince of yours disgust me!¡±

    He spat, and Lucius leaned to the right, allowing it to fly past.

    ¡°But the culprit made a mistake, you miscreants shared far too much information with each other,¡± Lucius continued, narrowing his eyes and sheathing the blade. ¡°You all managed to not only attack at times, right after another, but you were organised to avoid the majority of my patrols. It¡¯s clear that I have a leak of some sort, who¡¯s giving the information to someone. If I can find that person, then I believe I can identify the cause behind all of this.¡±

    ¡°Get bent, old man. You''re not getting anything out of me,¡± the attempted rebel said, leaning back against the stone wall of the prison, no longer struggling in vain against his chains.

    ¡°Oh, giving up on the angle that there¡¯s nothing to find? I will figure this all out, I swear it.¡± Lucius said, clenching both of his fists.

    <hr>

    Flores ran like the wind.

    That was something that was hard to do with his legs burning with scrapes and cuts, while simultaneously cradling an injured arm, but it was amazing what having a few guards on your tail could do for your endurance.

    The inner sections of the city were rather barren these days, except for when those large crowds seemed to form out of nowhere.

    He dodged around the people of one such crowd, and then ducked into one of the back alleys.

    From behind him, he heard the shout of, ¡°Stop! Thief!¡±, but he continued running.

    Do they honestly expect me to just stop because they shout that? Yeah, I¡¯m a thief, but I¡¯m not dumb enough to wait for you lot to catch me, you know?

    He pivoted around a tight corner, but he put too much strain on his bad ankle, and he stumbled for a few steps.

    His mind went blank for a few seconds, waiting for the pain to hit him¡­ but it didn¡¯t. He ran a few paces more, but his leg didn¡¯t tense up or force him to limp.

    That was good. He¡¯d never escape if he twisted his ankle now. If only he hadn¡¯t tried to kick that man with the bulging belly¡­

    ¡°There he is! Get him!¡±

    Flores cursed under his breath and picked his pace back up, shooting out onto another main street, dodging between dragon carriages and into another alley on the other side.

    Going through the carriages was one of the best ways to lose a tail, those goody-two-shoes guards never bothered to dash across recklessly like the slum-dwellers did. Sure, quite a few slum-dwellers got injured or even died pulling that move, but you had to be strong to survive the slums. If you didn¡¯t live strong, you didn¡¯t deserve to live in the first place.

    He spared a glance over his shoulder, and sure enough, the three guards following him had slowed down so as not to get in the way of the traffic.

    Still, he couldn¡¯t afford to get complacent just yet.

    He darted between the alleys, avoiding the respectable streets and continuing to run like there was no tomorrow.

    The next main street he reached, he slowed down, and crossed the street slowly, more like a reasonable person who just really couldn¡¯t be late for something. He spotted a pair of guards out on patrol eyeing him from the other side of the street, but neither seemed inclined to pursue him.

    The other kids in the slums often mocked Flores¡¯ insistence on making sure his clothes were respectable, but it paid off often enough that he kept at it. Right now, he looked like one of the normal kids from around these parts, perhaps one that had played a little too roughly with his friends, and one that was a little too late to be returning home, but not one worth bothering.

    He slipped into another alley, and once he felt certain that the pair wasn¡¯t going to bother him, he started running again.

    It was still early evening, but he didn¡¯t want to be late to be home. The guards and soldiers patrolling the neighbourhood didn¡¯t tend to stay out too late, meaning some of his friends chose to return to their hideouts after they were gone, but Flores didn¡¯t want to end up like Sabatha.

    He hadn¡¯t seen her body, but he had heard the rumours. Everyone had.

    It was unnerving, all those people, dying in such horrific ways, and all the warnings to look out for bugs. He could barely sleep these days. If he didn¡¯t have a group of other kids he bunked with to help keep watch at night, he doubted he¡¯d be sleeping at all.

    He crossed one last street, and then he was across the invisible line that separated the slums from the rest of the city. He slowed right down, shifted his posture, and continued onward.

    It only took a few minutes to get to his hideout. He encountered a couple of patrols of those new soldiers, but dealing with them was way easier than the guards. The guards were dangerous and unpredictable in the slums, but these soldiers were under strict orders not to cause trouble.

    In fact, they were mostly there to try and find the source of the murders. Flores knew they only really cared because they didn¡¯t want the murders to spread into the rest of the city, but it was still somewhat reassuring to have them around.

    That¡¯s why he only spared them a few evil looks before slinking off into the shadows. It was good to keep them on their toes.

    It only took a few more minutes for him to skulk to the hideout.

    It was a nice place, for the slums. It was one of the few two story buildings in the slums, but it had not been maintained in quite some time. The adults had abandoned it due to the draughts and dangerous creaking it tended to make on windy days, but such minor things didn¡¯t matter to the kids. They just used more blankets on the cold days, and a few of the older kids had spent some time nailing planks around to support the structure.

    He darted the remaining distance to the building, and slipped inside.

    Lain was on watch that day. The older, lankier boy was sitting at the community table, whittling a piece of wood with his knife.

    He glanced up as Flores entered, and then looked back to his carving.

    ¡°You¡¯re the first back,¡± he said, turning the wood over to the other side. ¡°Get anything good?¡±

    ¡°Yup,¡± Flores said with a grin, pulling two pouches out of his pocket. ¡°Found two easy marks! Both merchants, both only carrying silver! This¡¯ll be enough for a week!¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Lain looked at him in surprise. Then his eyes flicked to Flores¡¯ left hand, hanging limply at his side.

    ¡°You¡¯re hurt.¡±

    Flores shrugged with one shoulder. The other hurt, so he didn¡¯t want to move it.

    ¡°Only a little. I tried to get a third, but that guy was a lot more perceptive than the other two. Got a good hit on me.¡±

    Lain frowned. ¡°Still¡­ it¡¯d be better to get it healed.¡±

    ¡°Healed?¡± Flores asked, tilting his head. ¡°Wait, you mean with healing magic? No way we can afford that!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to pay for it, obviously,¡± Lain said. ¡°You¡¯ve heard of that church ¡®deli-gay-shon¡¯ that¡¯s been offering free healing?¡±

    Flores snorted. ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s no way I¡¯d trust them. They might try and make us pay after they finish, or maybe use some strange magic on us to make us confess to things.¡±

    Lain shook his head. ¡°No, I heard from Old Man Hendrick just today. He went to visit, and they healed him, no strings, no questions, no nothing. It¡¯s worth checking out.¡±

    ¡°Hendrick did?¡± Flores asked with incredulity. The grouchy old man was probably the least agreeable person in the slums. If even he had no problems with the healing¡­

    Flores glanced at his arm, and lifted it slightly, trying to judge how bad it was. It hurt, but it was a dull pain, and it didn¡¯t impede his movements much. He had landed on it hard when that man with the belly had tripped him up, and it had hurt a great deal then.

    ¡­perhaps it would be best to get it looked at. Especially if the healing was free and all.

    ¡°They¡¯re in the old church,¡± Lain said, apparently reading the thoughts right off his face. ¡°They apparently still own it. They¡¯ll be around ¡®til just after nightfall, so you don¡¯t need to rush.¡±

    Flores huffed. ¡°You know I¡¯m not going to risk being out that long. I¡¯ll be back well before then.¡±

    He threw the two pouches onto the table for Lain to deal with, and went back out the door.

    He ignored Lain¡¯s protesting cry of, ¡°Hey, put it away yourself!¡± as the door shut behind him, and then he darted out into the maze of streets and shacks.

    He would usually be more cautious when moving through the slums, but it was already late, and he absolutely did not want to be out at night.

    He knew the slums like the back of his own hand, so it was easy to find his way across to the old church. There were several soldiers stationed outside the doors, but none of them even glanced at him. Their eyes were focused on the sky, straining to pick out anything in the fading light.

    Still, Flores didn¡¯t want to remain in their sights for too long, so he set his pace to a brisk walk, and climbed the steps to the door.

    The inside of the church was the same ruined looking building that it always had been. The pews had been looted a long time ago, and most of the windows had been boarded up. The building was eerie enough that none of the slum dwellers had taken it as a shelter, so it was unlikely that the priests had been given much trouble when they moved in.

    In the middle of the room, sitting on a rather ordinary-looking chair, was a blue-robed priestess, two other priests by her side.

    She smiled as Flores came in, and gestured to the chair opposite her.

    ¡°Welcome,¡± she said. ¡°Have you come for healing? Or¡­ well, no, you have, haven¡¯t you? I can see you hurt your arm.¡±

    ¡°I fell on it,¡± Flores said, slowly approaching the trio.

    His instincts, honed from years avoiding capture in the city, warned him that this would be an excellent opportunity for the two standing priests to try and catch him, but one look at their faces told him that they were harmless. They were bored out of their minds, and their eyelids were drooping with tiredness. They had likely been standing there all day.

    ¡°You fell on it?¡±

    Rather than looking suspicious at such a lacklustre explanation, the priestess seemed to have bought it completely. In fact, she seemed rather sympathetic to him, and there was a knowing look in her eye, like the two of them were fellow compatriots set upon by a cruel universe.

    Flores got the feeling she had assumed something insulting about him, but he wasn¡¯t about to protest and arouse suspicion.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­¡± the priestess said as he sat down. She reached out a hand, and Flores felt a tingling in his arm as she created a magical orb of blue light over it.

    ¡°Oh¡­ you broke the bone,¡± she said, a touch of concern colouring her voice. ¡°It¡¯s just a small fracture, but it would be bad if left alone and you fell again.¡±

    The light shone brighter for a moment, then she smiled. ¡°Alright. You were also hurt on¡­ your legs, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    Flores hadn¡¯t mentioned it, but he wasn¡¯t surprised that the priestess was able to tell. He could vaguely feel the magic running around him, and the tingling as it focused on the stinging in his legs.

    The priestess moved her hand above his legs, then Flores quickly felt the stinging fade.

    ¡°All done!¡± she said, and the magic orb faded away. She smiled at Flores, but now there was a trace of regret on her face.

    Flores tensed, preparing to bolt, but before he could, the priestess grabbed his hand.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, could you tell me a little bit about the rumours you¡¯ve been hearing around here?¡± she asked. ¡°We don¡¯t demand payment, but we would like to hear a little from the people of this city.¡±

    ¡°I¡ª¡± Flores said, looking at one of the only surviving windows. He needed to get home before dark¡­ but there was still quite a bit of time, and he had just been healed for free. It wouldn¡¯t be that bad to talk for a bit.

    ¡°I don¡¯t really listen to them,¡± he said. ¡°Just the ones about the¡­ you know¡­ the bugs.¡±

    Understanding lit up on the priestess¡¯s face. ¡°Ah, yes. I suppose those are quite important here, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    Her amber eyes filled with compassion, shining brightly with emotion.

    ¡°There have been so many of those flying around. It¡¯s truly tragic. You know,¡± she lowered her voice, and locked her eyes on his own, continuing in a conspiratorial tone, ¡°there are some people who think Prince Fourier is responsible for those attacks. Can I ask, how do you feel about that rumour?¡±

    ¡°Prince Fourier?¡± Flores repeated, taken aback. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ I don¡¯t really think about him.¡±

    He was the ruler of the kingdom, but that didn¡¯t make much of a difference to Flores.

    But thinking about it a bit more¡­ didn¡¯t it make sense? Prince Fourier was the only survivor of that illness, wouldn¡¯t it make sense for him to create a crisis in the slums, then swoop in and conveniently ¡®solve¡¯ it to build up his reputation?

    And hell, who was to say that that illness was actually an illness. Maybe the prince killed his family, and came up with the illness as an excuse.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t heard that one before,¡± he said, hiding his internal revelations.

    The priestess smiled again, but she didn¡¯t look very happy. ¡°I see. Well, please forget I said anything. I wouldn¡¯t want you to spread those rumours.¡±

    Flores nodded, but the gesture felt like a lie. He felt certain that he had to tell everyone he knew about this, to spread it far and wide, to make sure everyone knew the truth.

    He turned to leave, but then had one final thought.

    ¡°Will you still be here tomorrow?¡± he asked.

    The priestess seemed surprised to be addressed again, but it quickly passed and she shook her head. ¡°No, I will not. I have to go to visit many different delegations. However, there will be another priest here, you¡¯ll be able to get healing from them.¡±

    Flores nodded. ¡°I see. Thank you, Lady Priestess.¡±

    He turned around, and didn¡¯t look back again.

    If he started telling people about the prince, he would get hurt once the wrong type of people started hearing him, and it would be good to have a place to recover from that.

    Because now, Flores had a message.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    And nothing was going to stop him from spreading it.

    <hr>

    ¡°Focus, Cadet Mayer, I need your report. We are proud Karsten Soldiers, after all,¡± Lucius barked at the young man hunching in on himself.

    A part of him felt bad for the overwhelmed young soldier, but the rest just felt exhausted.

    It was amazing how fast a human being could get used to something, Lucius thought dully.  Screams from various civilians echoed throughout the cool night air, as it had for the last hour as their assigned section was repeatedly hit with attacks.

    ¡°Sir,¡± Mayer said, saluting. ¡°We have rotated with Squad Beta for protecting the east slums and have successfully repelled two separate attacks, but I regret to report that we suffered several casualties sir. It was only Cadet Colin and I that survived.¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me that a swarm of insects have killed the majority of your squad?¡± Lucius repeated, unable to believe what he was hearing. If only two of the ten soldiers he¡¯d sent out returned, then it could mean that he¡¯d spread his soldiers far too thinly.

    He could only hope that this squad was particularly incompetent, because if they weren¡¯t it¡¯d mean he¡¯d potentially sent hundreds of men to their deaths.

    But it¡¯s not like I have any other options, if I wanted to respond to the majority of the areas we are being attacked, Lucius thought, gritting his teeth. They were being backed into a corner, and there was little he could do about it.

    ¡°Um, Sir¡­ I have some basic medical training¡­ So may I examine your arm?¡± the young soldier asked, focusing on the arm hanging limply by his side.

    ¡°We have better things to worry about then that!¡± Lucius retorted as he instinctively curled around the broken arm, before he forced himself to calm down.

    It was clear that Cadet Mayer meant no offence, and one look into the defeated and shell-shocked face of the young man before him, deflated his anger leaving him with only his exhaustion.

    ¡°I apologise for my outburst, it was unbecoming of me as your superior officer,¡± Lucius said stiffly, forcing out the words. ¡°I¡¯ll allow you to examine my arm, but I¡¯m afraid that I can¡¯t exactly leave this outpost either.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s alright sir, we can examine you here,¡± Cadet Mayer said. He looked nervous enough already, he didn¡¯t need the stress of seeing his superior act out of turn.

    It didn¡¯t say good things about him that seeing the young man¡¯s fear paradoxically made Lucius himself feel better. But there was something charmingly mundane about his nervousness compared to the screaming that was still echoing in both their ears.

    ¡°Sir, if I may, can I ask how you broke your arm?¡± he asked quietly, as he set to properly wrapping the wounded arm, even as Lucius attempted to return to his map.

    Several seconds passed quietly as Lucius considered ignoring him, time was valuable after all. Every second he wasted here was time he could have spent refining their plans. But he recognized just how on edge the both of them were. If taking a small break to converse with this soldier brought them both comfort, then Lucius would be a fool to ignore it.

    ¡°One of my subordinates attacked me from behind, while we were dealing with a riot. I must admit I never considered the possibility that King Fourier would somehow become this unpopular,¡± Lucius admitted quietly, taking a moment to reflect as he finally allowed himself to mourn.

    Because the truth was that the person who had attacked him, had once been a close friend of his. He wished he could have asked why, but his instincts had betrayed him. He¡¯d managed to minimise the damage and strike down his opponent despite being attacked from behind, but for once his perfect counterplay drew no pride from him.

    ¡°That¡¯s horrible sir! While I wasn¡¯t with my squad long, I couldn¡¯t imagine having one turn on us. Is he dea¡ª¡± Mayer cut off as he seemed to realise what he¡¯d been about to ask his superior officer.

    ¡°Yes, he¡¯s dead,¡± Lucius confirmed darkly. ¡°I killed him myself.¡±

    Better for him to think it a punishment for traitors, rather than simple reflexes, Lucius thought, wanting more than anything to just close his eyes and pretend this was over. But he knew his duty, and so refocused once more on the map in front of him.

    ¡°Fire!¡± A voice shouted close enough to be understood as more than just a general roar of noise.

    Mayer¡¯s hand dropped to his sword even as he rose, and headed towards the door.

    ¡°Stop,¡± Lucius commanded tiredly, ¡°We¡¯ve already had several false alarms since this all started. The residents of these slums at the very least have enough cunning to realise that we are quicker to respond to a cry of ¡®Fire¡¯, than we are a request for help, with how overworked we currently are.¡±

    ¡°Sir, what if this time it¡¯s not a false alarm though?¡± Mayer questioned clearly itching to be doing something.

    ¡°If you have that much energy, boy, then you can organise some of the reports I¡¯ve made. Don¡¯t make me repeat myself,¡± Lucius said sharply. ¡°We¡¯d know if an actual fire had occurred very quickly. with many of the buildings being wooden, they wouldn¡¯t last more than a few minutes, before collapsing.¡±

    As if to spite him, the distinct sound of a building collapsing hit their ears seconds later, causing the two men to rush out of the abandoned storefront they had been using as base.

    ¡°The fire is spreading, Sir! What do we do?¡± Mayer cried out as they saw several of the nearby buildings flickering with flames. There were some nearby, but Lucius could see other houses burning further afield, and smoke was rising from places beyond the range of their vision.

    Impossible! The only way for multiple fires independent of each other to have been set off would have been¡­

    ¡°It¡¯s those damn rebels again! They must have lit fires all at once! We need to make a makeshift fire-break immediately! These fires were designed to be spread, and at this rate it¡¯s possible that we could lose a large chunk of the residential areas.¡±

    He glanced around, trying to determine where the fires were placed.

    ¡°If we can hold them back for just a few minutes, I¡¯m sure reinforcements will arrive to help!¡± Lucius barked, his working hand clenching hard enough to carve bloody lines into his palms.

    ¡°But Sir, what about the residents of those homes? Might they not still be inside? Shouldn¡¯t we organise an evacuation?¡± Mayer asked quietly.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have the manpower to do as you¡¯d suggest, Cadet, and your life is no longer your own,¡± Lucius said. ¡°For all I know, it is currently just the two of us still located in this sector, as none of my other soldiers have reported in yet. If we don¡¯t act quickly many more lives will be lost.¡±

    ¡°Sir I don¡¯t know any magic though,¡± Mayer said softly. The shock of seeing the blazes seemed to have driven off his fear, but that wouldn¡¯t last long. ¡°How will I construct a fire-break fast enough?¡±

    ¡°You have my permission to enlist the citizens around you to help you. If they don¡¯t help, odds are high that they will die from the fire as well, or at the very least lose their homes.¡± Lucius said, hardly believing the order himself.

    He was telling the truth about the consequences, but even for him the idea of forcing civilians to help sat poorly with him. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for emergencies, but usually there would be a stronger presence of trained soldiers in their ranks. It was going to be difficult to keep everyone organised.

    Rather than waste more time though, Lucius set off at a run heading towards the fire, using his one uninjured hand to pull his coat over his face. It would offer at least some protection from the bilious clouds of smoke that had started to cover everything.

    His own earth magic wasn¡¯t anything special, and was far too slow to be useful in direct combat, but it helped decide skirmishes where he¡¯d prepared the battlefield. It should be more than adequate for any ordinary fire break, but with the sheer scale and multitude of the fires, even he would fail alone.

    The earth softened as he channelled his mana through his sword, allowing it to easily carve furrows far wider than just the edge of his blade.

    It was a mixed blessing that by heading into the path of the smoke, that there were few civilian members still remaining, with most remaining being corpses, either trampled to death in the evacuation, or having succumbed to burns suffered while escaping.

    But even in a manmade hell such as this, there were always exceptions.

    ¡°Please! You''re a soldier, aren¡¯t you!¡± a young girl cried, clutching onto an unmoving woman. ¡°You have to help my mom! she¡¯s fallen and won¡¯t get up.¡±

    He was well within the area of the fires, between several that had started to link up. A fire-break here would only buy time, without actually preventing the fire from spreading. But in that time, Cadet Mayer would be able to create enough of a break to keep the blaze contained from his side. He couldn¡¯t afford to waste time.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do just that, but I¡¯m afraid that you¡¯ll just be in the way, run ahead and I¡¯ll bring her to you alright,¡± Lucius said soothingly, even as he never stopped pouring his mana into the earth.

    I can¡¯t let this slow me down. Lucius thought, his body felt heavy at the thought of continuing.

    He wrenched his sword, and a house shuddered as its foundations became unstable.

    It collapsed, throwing up sparks and ashes, the few flames that had been catching on its timbers spluttering and going out. He didn¡¯t have the manpower to clear the rubble, so it would be alight again soon enough, but without the height of the building, the flames would be a little more limited.

    ¡°You promise?¡± the young girl asked, clearly running out of options as she coughed under the thick smoke pouring through the streets.

    ¡°I promise that I¡¯ll bring your mother back to you in one form or another.¡± Lucius said sincerely, hating that even now he was qualifying his statement. ¡°May I ask for your name?¡±

    ¡°Plum. I¡¯m Plum Risch,¡± the girl said, tears dripping down her eyes as she stared longingly at her mothers still form, for a few more seconds before she dashed away.

    Lucius watched as Plum wisely gave the collapsing buildings a wide berth, but he found himself shouting after her, even as he coughed thickly into his jacket.

    ¡°Make sure you use some clothes to cover your face! Otherwise the smoke inhalation will kill you!¡± Lucius shouted, before forcing himself to start carving once more, stepping over the body of the woman he¡¯d promised he¡¯d retrieve, taking only a moment to confirm his dark suspicions.

    I¡¯m sorry that I¡¯m allowing your daughter to cling to the false hope you''re alive. But I swear that I¡¯ll come back for you, and I¡¯ll bring your remains to your daughter myself. But your girl needs to stay alive to do that, so I¡¯ll do my part in putting a stop to all of this, so I swear on my honour and life. Lucius thought, pushing his body harder.

    He had work to do, and he would get it done.

    Even if it cost him his own life.

    <hr>

    Fourier had pushed himself again.

    He was swaying where he stood, still clutching the rod that bound him to the Obelisk, and still draining himself to the bone to operate it.

    Julius did his best to hide the frustration he felt at the sight. His lovely buds tried to help blunt the worst of that emotion, speaking softly to share their reassurance. He felt grateful to them for the action. Their presence helped to ensure he was always in top form, completely aware of his surroundings so that he would be able to detect if someone approached the sanctum again.

    After the incident a few days ago, he couldn¡¯t help but feel tense, even if Fourier had assured them that Bishop Jaune would deal with the priesthood. But relying on somebody who had already proved incompetent was troubling, especially for a matter this important.

    But those were concerns for another time.

    As Fourier swayed a little too much to keep ignoring, Julius took a step forward, allowing his liege to lean onto his shoulder. It was an act that he had grown used to due to King Fourier¡¯s condition steadily deteriorating due to the repeated drainings. Still, while it was troubling to see someone he respected so drained, it only increased the respect he held for His Majesty.

    Sadly the same could not be said of Ferris. He¡¯d taken the deteriorating condition of King Fourier incredibly personally, and hadn¡¯t taken the fact that he couldn¡¯t heal him while His Majesty was under the protection of the divine artifact well.

    Even now, Ferris was fretting by Fourier¡¯s side, doing what little he could with the options available to him. Mostly, that consisted of occasionally wiping Fourier¡¯s brow with a damp cloth, but sometimes meant trying to relieve Fourier¡¯s weariness even through the drain of the artifact.

    Julius had forced himself to ignore the mumbled curses Ferris had directed towards the Divine Dragon. He was far too frayed to properly care about what he was saying. There was no harm in it provided he only spoke such words in private.

    ¡°You should start weakening the connection,¡± Ferris stated, apprehension lacing his voice.

    He placed a hand on Fourier¡¯s chest, and closed his eyes. Julius felt the slightest disturbance of mana in the air, and then Ferris sighed.

    ¡°You still have a fair amount of mana left, but it isn¡¯t healthy to drain yourself nearly empty so regularly.¡±

    ¡°Come now, Ferris, don¡¯t pretend you didn¡¯t push yourself harder at the mansion,¡± Fourier responded. His tone would usually be quite sharp for such a retort, but his voice was softer than normal. Softer, and wearier.

    ¡°That was different!¡± Ferris said, face reddening. ¡°Healing magic is most easily performed on one¡¯s own body! I can afford to push myself harder as a result, you know that! If Ferri had been going too far, you would have personally come to the mansion and forced me to stop!¡±

    Julius closed his eyes, wishing that he could ignore the argument between his two friends. He knew how important it was for His Majesty to continue, yet he couldn¡¯t deny that a growing part of him agreed with Ferris.

    Fourier sighed softly. ¡°I know things are not ideal. But I can¡¯t stop, not yet. We both know that the tension is getting worse. If anything, the physical signs of my body acting up could be the card we use to get more time.¡±

    Ferris narrowed his eyes, and practically hissed, ¡°While I¡¯m sure that idea sounds noble, you know that they don¡¯t trust me! It¡¯d be simpler for them to just assume you''re faking it! They''ve already accused you of pretending to summon the dragon!¡±

    Fourier shook his head weakly.

    ¡°You''re right in that no matter what I do, some will still refuse to believe in me. But the opposite is true as well. I know that there will be people who will always stand by my side, even if I allow myself to be weak.¡±

    Julius suppressed a frown. If he hadn¡¯t been appointed by His Majesty as his personal guard, would he have given him his unconditional support immediately? Especially with the foundation of their Kingdom seemingly ignoring him?

    ¡°Then Fourier, if you recognize that Crusch and Ferri will always be by your side, why are you insisting on pushing yourself so hard?¡± Ferris asked, tears forming in his eyes. ¡°Why do it for those who won¡¯t ever listen to you in the first place? It¡¯s better to give up on such people, Fourier, rather than wasting your energy trying to change them.¡±

    Fourier sighed once more, before locking eyes with Ferris.

    ¡°Did you know what first put me on my path? It was talking to Crusch about her thoughts on the previous Lion Kings. I was so incredibly jealous of them, to think that they¡¯d capture the attention of the woman whose respect I want more than any other, it really left me with only one option. If I wanted to capture Crusch¡¯s attention I¡¯d just have to surpass them.¡±

    ¡°...to think you had such a stupid reason.¡±

    Ferris lowered his head, and roughly wiped his face before continuing. ¡°But I suppose it¡¯d fit someone like you, Fourier.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I think you''re wrong though Ferris,¡± Fourier said, a smile starting to form. ¡°I think if I ever allowed myself to slack off, it¡¯d be Crusch who¡¯d be the first in line to shake some sense into me. If I¡¯m to be the Lion King that everyone seems to think that I can be, this is only the start of the challenges I¡¯ll face in the future.¡±

    ¡°After all, to someone worthy of being called Lion King, there¡¯s an entire third category belonging to those I can change.¡± Ferris said, sounding almost cheerful, ¡°Many of the priests here are experienced healers. They will be able to see the truth of my condition, and so, if I push myself to my limit, they will be forced to acknowledge that I am doing all that I can. Jaune knows his healers well, and will be independently checking with many of them to confirm what he already knows. After the mess with Roswaal, even I¡¯m not sure what Jaune¡¯s reaction would be if I took it easy, when the church is struggling with insubordination in their ranks.¡±

    Julius felt a tension he hadn¡¯t even noticed build up fade. Julius hadn¡¯t known Fourier in great detail before his appointment, but even if he wouldn¡¯t have offered unconditional support, he would have kept his mind open and would have been convinced after seeing Fourier work so hard.

    Slowly, a smile started to grow on Julius¡¯s lips as the tension fled his body.

    Surely these priests will be swayed by seeing the effort His Majesty was going through for them. They serve the Divine Dragon Volcanica renown for his wisdom, after all. Surely they must also realise that the only reason Volcanica hasn¡¯t shown up yet, must be due to him being busy handling a problem of great magnitude.

    Before he could fully relax however, Julius felt a jolt from his buds. Ia had spotted a great many individuals approaching the sanctum.

    ¡°Your Majesty, we will soon have an audience,¡± Julius interrupted, a frown creasing his brow. ¡°Do you think that you are capable of standing alone?¡±

    ¡°I will have to be,¡± Fourier said, pulling himself off their shoulders. ¡°Thank you for the warning, Julius.¡±

    Julius nodded in understanding, and took a step back.

    However, he still did not trust the priests well enough to let them approach while he was unprepared.

    He stood ready to draw his sword in an instant, one foot placed slightly in front of the other so he could quickly shift into a fighting stance.

    His spirits, too, prepared in their own ways.

    Ake formed a link to the building, and through it, to the earth itself. In took the moment to cycle her own mana in tune with his own, small sparks of golden light forming around his arms in particular. Alo reached out to the air around them, getting ready to wrap wind around him and cast away projectiles. Ia focused on his blade itself, taking the steps to ready their ultimate technique, so they¡¯d be able to use it if it proved necessary.

    Kua and Nes were the only two of his buds that didn¡¯t instantly take to arms, Kua focusing instead on Ferris to study his reaction, and learn from the greatest healer in the country.

    Nes instead chose to relax further, lazily drifting around the room as if scolding the others on their paranoia. She was far more focused on murmuring calming emotions to Julius.

    For several tense moments they waited quietly.

    Julius privately worried that he was acting too rashly, but when he considered the incident a few days previous, he couldn¡¯t fault himself for it. If the people turned out to be harmless, he would relax. But not before they were gone.

    He could see Fourier forcing his shaking to subside, pulling himself to stand fully upright, and holding the Sceptre aloft. The rod continued to glow a soft blue, bathing the king in its divine light, giving him an imperious aura despite his clear weariness.

    With a creak, the doors opened to reveal Bishop Jaune, flanked by several priests, several of which Julius recognized from their previous attempt to harass His Majesty.

    ¡°Jaune? What is the meaning of this?¡± Fourier demanded, red eyes narrowed dangerously. ¡°You told me that you had sent them away.¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± Jaune claimed, his head lowered in mock respect. There was a dangerous glint in his eye, one that set Julius on edge. His hand drifted to his sword, and even Nes seemed to realise something was wrong.

    ¡°But as time passed,¡± the bishop continued, ¡°I realised that I¡¯ve never truly once looked at you without your Father¡¯s shadow hanging over you. I then began to wonder, who was the truly blind one here?¡±

    A self-mocking smile rose on his face, and he lifted a hand to rub his temple. ¡°After all, with how close I was to your father, I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that I was unable to take the correct steps at first. Thankfully my fellow priests have forgiven my lapse and are prepared to help me correct it.¡±

    Jaune¡¯s smile only grew as he stared at the soft blue light. ¡°Even the Divine Dragon himself smiles upon us. With your mana flowing through the sceptre, you are bound to the Obelisk. You won¡¯t be able to leave.¡±

    ¡°Do not take a single step more,¡± Julius cut in, stepping forward and unsheathing his sword in one fluid motion.

    Anger furrowed his brow, but he felt fine with allowing that crack in his knightly demeanour. He was furious, both at the implied threat in the man¡¯s words, and at the suggestion that anything the man did in front of him was endorsed by the Divine Dragon. How such a man had become Bishop escaped Julius, but he wouldn¡¯t allow him to approach Fourier, even if it meant pointing a blade at the church itself.

    His spirits redoubled their efforts, and faint motes of multi-coloured light began swirling around his sword.

    ¡°Should you not heed my warning, I am afraid I will need to use lethal force to defend His Majesty.¡±

    ¡°It is a shame,¡± Jaune said, meeting Julius¡¯s gaze, and deliberately taking a slow step forward, ¡°that a man as decorated as our Spirit Knight, serves someone like Fourier. Still, did you really think that I would not come prepared to deal with you and the Blue?¡±

    He lifted a hand, and more priests began filling the sanctum. And they weren¡¯t alone.

    For a moment even Julius¡¯s blade wavered, but it was not due to the dozens of priests, all armed to the teeth with clubs and maces.

    Four of their new enemies were not priests at all, but white-cloaked swordsmen. White cloaks, the exact same as Julius¡¯s own.

    Knights of the Royal Guard.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Julius asked, unable to keep the fury out of his voice. ¡°You are sworn to protect His Majesty, not work against him! Stand down now!¡±

    ¡°The Finest Knight,¡± one of the knights said, a look of regret on his face. ¡°Julius Jukulius.¡±

    Julius recognised the man. He was a knight who focused on his great strength, and had a large, heavyset build, reminiscent of the Captain of the Knights. Oberon Voss, the Bear Knight.

    ¡°I know this must be hard for you,¡± Oberon continued. ¡°But you must understand, we are not sworn to Fourier. Our loyalties lie with the Kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Then what are you thinking!¡± Julius snarled. ¡°You are betraying your oath by merely being here!¡±

    Oberon shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. It has become clear that for the sake of the Kingdom, Prince Fourier must be removed.¡±

    Julius¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± the large man said, drawing his own sword, a large broadsword that would take two hands for any normal person to lift. Oberon held it in one, and pointed it directly at Julius.

    ¡°But for the sake of the Kingdom, we must do this.¡±

    Out of the corner of his eyes, Julius saw the other three knights unsheathe their own swords.

    Julius stood there silently, spending the last moments before the engagement thinking rapidly. He was one of the most competent knights in the kingdom, he knew. He could defeat Oberon in a one-on-one fight with ease. But with three other knights as back-up, and dozens of priests ready to take advantage of any slip-ups he made, not to mention the fact that he had to protect Fourier as well¡­

    If it was Reinhard here, even something like this could be dealt with¡­ but I¡­

    In that moment, Julius wanted nothing more than to throw himself forward and fight until he either emerged victorious or ended up dead.

    It shamed him that his heart would want something so barbaric, but as his body tensed and he readied himself, he felt the presence of his buds beside him, and saw as Ferris shakily drew his own sword, he knew that he couldn¡¯t afford to be so selfish.

    We need to escape, but the Divine Artifact won¡¯t let His Majesty go so easily. Even if it means damaging our most important relic, I¡¯ll rescue His Majesty. I¡¯m sure even the Divine Dragon would agree that Fourier is more important.

    Ia, Kua, Alo, Ake, In, Nes! My precious buds, please lend me your strength! Help me save my friends!

    ¡°Al Clarista!¡± Julius shouted, and his sword lit up with multi-coloured lights as his spirits poured their power into his blade in harmony.

    This was the power he had cultivated to serve his Kingdom. He had never thought he would turn it against other servants of that same Kingdom, but as a Knight, he refused to stand idly by.

    Oberon¡¯s eyes widened at the sight of his shining sword, and shifted into a defensive stance.

    ¡°Everyone get back!¡± he shouted. ¡°Don¡¯t engage him directly! Let me take the blows!¡±

    Julius smiled. The Bear Knight was mostly correct in his thinking. If any but he were to face Julius¡¯s ultimate technique, they would be cut down in a single blow. Even Oberon would not last against more than a handful of strikes, but that was a risk the other knight was willing to accept.

    Unfortunately for their attackers, Julius had no intention of doing such a thing.

    In the moments after Oberon¡¯s words, as the priests cautiously moved backwards, as the knights leaned back into defensive stances, Julius chose to turn his back and strike at the chain that prevented them from escaping.

    In an explosion of colour and mana, his Al Clarista slammed into the royal blue light connecting the Scepter and Obelisk, but even his ultimate technique couldn¡¯t sever something the Divine Dragon had a hand in so easily.

    Distantly, Julius could hear shouting, but he tuned it out, focusing all of his attention onto his blade instead.

    A great heat was being released from the site of his blade¡¯s cut, as the connection fought against him with everything it had. Ia was doing her best to funnel the heat upwards rather than allow it to burn Julius, but it was taxing her and causing Al Clarista to weaken.

    If I fail here, then there is every likelihood that Ferris and Fourier might be put to death! All I have to do is cut through this obstacle, and nothing else matters.

    Emptying his head, Julius poured everything he had into the blade, causing the sparking lights to redouble and a shockwave burst out of the connection, almost blowing him away.

    Then his blade itself was consumed, as his technique reached a power he had never before achieved.

    With the sounds of breaking glass and an outpouring of heat, the connection was cut. The Obelisk shook violently as the mana left inside of it was left imbalanced.

    Letting go of his damaged blade¡ªlittle more than a hilt at this point¡ªJulius threw himself forward and grabbed both his friends.

    ¡°No! Stop him!¡±

    Julius didn¡¯t look back at Oberon¡¯s voice, simply continuing to run towards the back of the room.

    Towards the stained glass window.

    I need your help once more, In!

    Light too soft to be visible in daylight flickered across his body, In too drained to do more than mildly enhance his skin¡¯s toughness.

    He ran at the window, heaving his two passengers in front of him, then spinning around at the last second so he took the full force of the impact.

    His back smashed through the glass, and he felt the shards pressing against the protection In had cast over him.

    He spotted Oberon dashing with all his might towards them, and then they were outside in the evening air.

    For a split second, the trio hovered in the air as Alo marshalled her remaining power to attempt a soft landing.

    However, drained as she was, gravity proved to be too much, and they swiftly outpaced her flagging attempts to slow them down.

    In, please at least save Fourier and Ferris!

    Pain sharp and sudden destroyed his thought process, as all three of them were subjected to a rush of heat and force originating from the Church.

    Their fall changed from a somewhat controlled freefall, into a chaotic mess as Julius'' sense of direction was destroyed.

    Curling around his friends Julius did his best to cushion the fall with his own body, he¡¯d save them if it was the last thing he did.

    <hr>

    Julius opened his eyes as he came to, and saw Ferris glaring at him with tears in his eyes, a healing orb in his hands raised over Julius¡¯s body.

    ¡°How long have I been out, and are we safe?¡± Julius asked, already attempting to rise. He didn¡¯t know how badly the fall had hurt him, but Ferris¡¯s healing seemed to have removed the worst of his injuries. His beloved buds clambered for his attention, all sharing their concern at him falling silent.

    ¡°You idiot! That¡¯s the first thing you ask about?¡± Ferris demanded, looking none the worse for wear despite that abrupt fall. Fourier similarly looked relatively unhurt, which likely meant that rather than Ferris healing himself, In must have managed to follow his request and shield both of them from the worst of it.

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing your spirits woke you? You¡¯ve been out for less than a minute,¡± Fourier stated in faux calm, eyes still burning with rage.

    ¡°Understood, Your Majesty. In which case, we must make our escape at once.¡±

    With a wince, Julius rose, one arm easily lifting Ferris off him. The younger man ignored the manhandling. He was too focused on fixing the damage Julius had caused himself.

    ¡°Before we leave, I think it might be a good idea for you to look behind you,¡± Fourier said, swinging his arm to point at what must have been the church.

    Julius found it hard to believe his eyes though, as much of the building had collapsed, the once beautiful building in pieces.

    ¡°What could have caused this?¡± Julius wondered as he gazed at Fourier.

    ¡°At a guess it was most likely the reaction of the destabilised Divine Artefact, but that doesn¡¯t matter right now. All it means is we have a little time for breathing, but we need to head to the palace as soon as possible,¡± Fourier asserted. But he himself continued to gaze at the wreckage. There was a hint of mournful regret in his eyes. He felt compassion, even for those who had betrayed him.

    Julius forced himself to close his eyes and take a deep breath, as he choose to assess his buds¡¯ state, pushing Al Clarista further than he ever had before had clearly taxed all of them, and it had only been the sacrifice of his family''s prized blade that had allowed them to constrain the damage rather than have it explode violently.

    It hadn¡¯t helped that he hadn¡¯t even given them seconds to recover before demanding more from them. He¡¯d needed In to enhance their bodies, Alo to slow down their fall, and Kua had helped focus the damage on easily healed parts.

    His gate only had so much output, and if it had not been for Ake¡¯s help it would have failed entirely. Thankfully as always his buds performed above expectations and Ake had managed to gather the required mana to help fuel her sisters. If they had a few hours to spare, she¡¯d manage to get the others ready for serious combat again, but until then it would be best if he relied on Ia and Nes primarily, along with his own swordsmanship.

    Thankfully for him, Ferris was in the Royal Knight¡¯s uniform rather than his own preferred garb as part of the event, so a substitute was easily in reach, even if its quality was lower than his heirloom blade.

    ¡°Ferris, you¡¯ll be hanging onto me from my back, you¡¯ll need to keep yourself steady. Your sight is superior to mine at night, and I¡¯ll be having Ia and Nes snuff out any lights they find to help keep us hidden. It leaves my hands unoccupied, so that I can carry His Majesty in one, and the ceremonial sword ready in the other.¡± Julius said, tensing his newly repaired muscles in preparation for the run ahead.

    ¡°What about this?¡± Fourier cut in weakly, lifting the still glowing Sceptre connected to him. ¡°In the darkness won¡¯t it just draw more attention?

    ¡°Is the Sceptre still draining you? And is there any chance it¡¯ll explode like what we left behind?¡± Ferris asked worriedly.

    ¡°No,¡± Fourier shook his head. ¡°If anything it¡¯s returning the mana that I gave it now, but I can¡¯t let go of it still. As for the explosion¡­ I¡¯m certain that it won¡¯t do that, at least,¡± Fourier answered, resigned to its continued presence.

    ¡°An easy solution then, Your Majesty, if you''re only worried about the glow.¡± Julius said, shrugging off his mantle, and wrapping it around the Sceptre and Fourier¡¯s arm, obscuring the glow almost entirely.

    Sure enough, without the blue light illuminating the three of them, even Julius¡¯s keen eyes had trouble seeing in front of them. Thankfully, after only a moment¡¯s hesitation, Ferris pointed out which direction led to the palace, and they were off, trusting Ferris to act as their eyes.

    ¡°I wish that those traitorous priests didn¡¯t convince you to leave your mirror behind.¡± Ferris grumbled even as his eyes stayed alert.

    ¡°It was for the best,¡± Fourier said, strength returning to his voice. ¡°Our conversation mirrors have been around since the dawn of our contract with the Divine Dragon after all, and anyone attending the ceremony has always left their mirrors behind.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how you can still say such things,¡± Ferris said, not bothering to hide his disgust.

    ¡°I for one believe it is very admirable.¡± Julius cut in, ¡°It shows the true nobility of our friend''s heart after all. King Fourier went in with every intention of making the ritual a success, after all.¡±

    <hr>

    Minutes passed as the three continued to argue, and Julius found that the tension coiled inside him slowly relaxed, even as Julius¡¯s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. It was especially useful since Ia and Nes were incredibly successful in their efforts.

    Julius could see the magic crystal lights going out one-by-one, as the duo drained any light source in their vicinity to increase their mana and the cover of darkness. Ia was a little slower, both because her fire magic wasn¡¯t as well-suited to the task as Nes¡¯s yin magic, and because she kept returning to their side to make sure their clothes stayed warm. Julius hadn¡¯t mentioned it to her, but she took it upon herself to help mitigate the cold night air none of them were dressed to handle.

    But on one such return journey, she had a shocking report to make.

    Large fire ahead.

    ¡°What?¡± Julius asked in surprise. Ia hovered in place, trying to describe the situation as she could sense it.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Fourier asked. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°Ia says there¡¯s a fire ahead,¡± Julius said, straining his eyes to look forwards. Much of the city was lit at night, especially in the central regions, which would disguise a fire to a certain extent, but¡­

    ¡°I think I see it,¡± Ferris said. ¡°There¡¯s a faint red tinge to the light over there. It¡¯s right between us and the palace.¡±

    The knights met each other¡¯s gaze, then turned to Fourier. While usually they would leap in to help with a disaster like that, in the situation they were currently in¡­

    ¡°We should avoid it,¡± Ferris said quietly, eyes darting back around the chill night to search every detail.

    But Fourier shook his head.

    ¡°From the look of it, it¡¯s located in the main intersection,¡± he said. ¡°It''s better to cut right through it. There may be something we can do to help, and even if we cannot, any details we can gather will help the guards'' response.¡±

    With their decision made, Julius took point once more, and they approached the area Ia had warned them about.

    But as the minutes passed by, and they got closer and closer to the source of the blaze, Julius began to doubt his sight and hearing.

    Crackling echoed in his ears followed by the sound of a crash, as Julius bore witness to a fire the size of which he had never seen before. Worse yet, people were fighting on the streets rather than helping to evacuate calmly as the indistinct sounds of multiple people screaming echoed throughout the night air.

    Ia, can you stop that fire?

    For a few seconds Ferris and Fourier stayed quiet as Julius focused on the blaze ahead, lending his support to Ia as she worked to weaken the fire. He could feel the blaze now, a hungry brand on his thoughts that yearned to consume anything it could. Ia¡¯s influence had slowed its growth, but if he didn¡¯t find aid, then even that wouldn¡¯t be enough.

    Still, even that much could save lives, Julius knew, and for a brief moment, he wanted to stay.

    Yet he knew his duty all too well, and so he bit his lip and turned his back on the people in front of him. Besides, if he could get Fourier to the palace, then they¡¯d be able to arrange a bigger group to respond to this sudden fire than he himself would.

    In spite of those thoughts, Julius found that his body didn¡¯t want to take another step forward, but it was Ferris that broke him out of his deadlock.

    ¡°Get moving Julius! We don¡¯t have time to be standing around!¡± Ferris''s voice rang through the smoke filled air, cutting through the noise filled with anger and despair as citizens fought each other.

    Grimacing, Julius took off even as Fourier sadly whispered.

    ¡°This riot¡¯s occurred because of the Divine Dragon failing to appear, hasn¡¯t it?¡±

    Exhaustion and pain were clear to see on Fourier¡¯s face as he saw what his failure had caused.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear another word that stupid out of you, until I can examine you at the palace, Fourier!¡± Ferris snapped loudly, clearly on edge by the sight in front of them, even as he managed to channel his fear into anger.

    Julius couldn¡¯t quite contain his wince at the loud noise, but considering the general mayhem of their surroundings, it shouldn¡¯t have drawn any overt attention.

    ¡°That¡¯s him! The Blasphemous Prince himself, witness for yourself as he runs from what his actions have created,¡± shouted a young man who¡¯s foot rested on the body of one of the guards.

    It made Julius blood run hot to see such a blatant show of disrespect, especially directed to one of the servants of the Kingdom, but the ensuing reaction doused any anger he felt.

    For at the man¡¯s call, dozens of eyes turned their way, hate filled eyes ready to do anything to tear them apart.

    From the way many held themselves, Julius doubted that they encountered combat regularly, so he should be able to subdue many of them, but to inflict such harm would only make things worse, and so he forced himself to run, even as he tasted the bitter tang of regret.

    His friend''s safety was more important, and his duty was clear, and so he simply sprant past them, his greater speed easily leaving them behind, even as their eyes so filled with hatred lingered in his mind.

    The next minute was quiet as Julius focused on speed, foregoing any attempt at stealth as he kept his spirits close, which was the only thing that saved their lives. The attack came abruptly, a blade that should have claimed Julius¡¯s life in an instant, as it came rocketing out of his blind spot, in a blow no ordinary human would ever be able to avoid.

    JUMP

    In a moment the three were airborne, as Nes lowered Gravity''s hold on the three of them allowing him to clear several feet, as Julius¡¯s body instantly reacted to his comrades words, even before his mind realised what had happened.

    An attack? Julius wondered, eyes scanning the area and even as Gravity reasserted itself to pull them down, Ia¡¯s light burst through the area, clearly illuminating the area in front of them.

    A woman stood where he had been, seeming to have avoided even Ferris¡¯s keen senses, a Kukri blade raised.

    ¡°My oh my, I suppose I should have expected such alertness, from one called the Finest Knight.¡±

    The woman¡¯s voice rang through the rapidly heating air, as Ia discarded subtlety in the face of this threat.

    Julius¡¯s own heart raced, as he recognized that woman¡¯s face. The bowel-hunter, a powerful assassin who had killed many in distasteful fashions was someone who Julius longed to bring to justice.

    But the weight of Ferris on his back, and Fourier in his arms, put a stop to such fantasies. The Bowl Hunter had tangled with Knights before and proven her strength by butchering them. In all honesty, Julius was unsure if he could bring her down with his own Mana so drained and his buds exhausted. But he wasn¡¯t sure he had a choice either.

    ¡°Elsa Granheirt, the Bowel Hunter. Were you part of why a riot has started, or are you merely being a vulture and feeding on the weak once more?¡± Julius asked calmly as he emptied his mind and emotions in preparation for the fight. Against an opponent of this calibre, he couldn¡¯t afford any distractions.

    ¡°How rude,¡± Elsa said, covering her mouth to laugh softly. ¡°I would have expected the Finest Knight to be more polite to a lady. But I can¡¯t say I dislike that forwardness of yours, either. As to why I¡¯m here¡­ let¡¯s simply say I enjoy hunting now and again.¡±

    Keeping his eyes locked on her, Julius knelt, allowing Ferris to clamber off, and handed Fourier over to him.

    Both kept silent, either understanding and agreeing with his decision or resigned to the inevitable fact that running wasn¡¯t an option anymore.

    In his current state, even keeping Elsa busy would be a challenge after all, if he had to make it a running battle where he had to protect both Ferris and Fourier? With the speed the Bowel Hunter had already shown, that would be outright beyond him.

    ¡°My apologies, I would hate to fail to live up to the image you have of me,¡± Julius said, relaxing his stance, to buy the retreating forms of his friends more time.

    ¡°Still, a knight of your calibre is one I suppose I should take more seriously,¡± Elsa said, amused at his transparent attempt to buy time, as she withdrew a second Kukuri.

    Then she dashed at him.

    She was incredibly quick, and moved strangely, keeping her weight low to the ground as if intending to once more ambush him. It was a stance well suited to moving incredibly quickly, but such a stance would mean that she wouldn¡¯t be able to fully utilise her own strength either.

    His borrowed knight blade deflected the two quicker blades without fail, his superior skill and reach allowing him to barely keep up as the smiling hunter seemed content to merely pressure him, likely assuming that he wouldn¡¯t be able to keep up.

    Julius allowed himself to return the smile, when he saw Elsa jump back rather than press the attack, despite seeming to have the upper hand.

    ¡°My, my I wasn¡¯t expecting you to be a Yin user alongside being a master swordsman. Or perhaps I should instead be complimenting you for how well you work with your spirit instead?¡± Elsa asked casually, expecting her blades.

    ¡°Our teamwork deserves the credit I would say, I must admit it is rare to find somebody who can accurately appreciate the work my beloved buds put in.¡± Julius said, giving his own blade a quick glance himself. While it was rare for him to work with just one of his buds, all of them had practised helping him with his swordsmanship at one point or another.

    Nes¡¯s contribution had been to curse his opponent¡¯s blades each time they clashed. After a few seconds of contact, he would have been able to break them and cut Elsa down.

    ¡°My, but you¡¯ve marked them so, it¡¯s a good thing I always keep extras on hand.¡± Elsa said before launching at him once more, this time throwing each of the damaged Kukri at him to occupy his sword, before preparing to skewer him with her new one.

    Let there be Light.

    Before she reached him, Ia manifested her brightest light yet, a flash bomb that had appeared directly in Elsa¡¯s vision, distracting her and buying him the valuable seconds to reposition his blade.

    He deflected her strike and then riposted, catching her arm at the wrist and then slicing right through it.

    The bowel hunter hissed and threw herself backwards, taking a position outside of Julius¡¯s striking range, her severed limb dripping blood onto the ground.

    ¡°If you surrender now, I swear on my honour as a Knight that you¡¯ll at least receive a trial rather than being cut down,¡± Julius offered.

    But he didn¡¯t let up his guard. Elsa was smiling, and still seemed unconcerned with the outcome of the battle.

    If that display was all she was capable of, then it was unlikely she would have been able to commit the sheer magnitude of crimes she had. There was something she was still hiding.

    ¡°You¡¯d cut the show off so early?¡± Elsa said frowning for the first time since their fight had begun. ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry. I¡¯d say one hand would be a compromise, putting me on par with your handicap, Sir Spirit Knight.¡±

    Julius¡¯s own frown deepened, as this showed that Elsa had an accurate idea of his capabilities at full power, and yet had not hesitated to challenge him.

    This time it was Julius that launched himself forward, blade extended as he approached the wounded woman, who surprised him by managing to match his strength even with her shorter blade. Purple eyes met yellow as her grin widened and yet even as his instincts screamed to move, it was too late.

    Splatter.

    ¡°To think, you focused on hitting the exact same spot.¡± Julius said as he pulled back, Elsa not even bothering to pursue the wounded man, as she examined the bloodied Kukri with a blush, her arm having somehow regenerated which had allowed her to strike him.

    Did Elsa somehow possess healing magic? But to heal such a wound so quickly would only be possible for the most skilled mages, even when applied to oneself.

    No, rather than focusing on the method, he needed to consider how he could fight Elsa like this.

    He¡¯d managed to minimise the blow, so he¡¯d at least kept the limb, but he was all too aware that he¡¯d lose consciousness in less than a minute if something wasn¡¯t done, with his arteries severed.

    Alo and Ferris were both not going to be happy with him, but it wasn¡¯t as if he could use his sword-arm to apply pressure. Instead he requested Ia to help him cauterise the wound, and to her credit she hesitated for only a moment before lancing his arm with flame.

    ¡°My, what a nostalgic smell, I wouldn¡¯t have expected it from a Knight such as yourself.¡± Elsa said slowly, deeply inhaling as she smiled watching the smoke billow from his ruined arm.

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be right if I stopped our dance from something like blood loss, now would it?¡± Julius said, smile thinning as the pain hit, even as he once more took up his stance, his working hand pointing the blade straight at her.

    What could he do now? He hadn¡¯t exactly been in top shape when he began this fight, but Elsa had managed to deal with most of the cards he thought could lead to victory.

    He had only two cards he could play.

    Ia, do you have enough energy left for fire magic? Nes, how long would you be able to hold a Shamak for before coming to find me?

    Make that one card, he thought as their answers reached him. Ia, had been pushing herself through their entire run after all handling each and every light source, along with providing heat for the group. Her flash bomb had used the majority of her remaining power, and then he¡¯d needed her to cauterise his wound.

    Thankfully Nes wasn''t as drained, cursing Elsa¡¯s blades had been her only serious expenditure along with weakening gravity for a fraction of a second. She had enough left for their final option.

    Retreating.

    ¡°How charming, it¡¯s been quite some time since I had prey that excited me as much as you. I almost wish I had come across you at your full strength instead.¡± Elsa said, blush deepening even as she rapidly approached him.

    Julius met her Kukuri with his blade, but rather than make it a contest of strength he allowed her to push him back and assisted kicking off with all of his might, as he was sent rocketing away from the assassin.

    Now! Shamak!

    Darkness, centred on Elsa¡¯s location billowed out, cutting off her senses.

    Before he could convince himself otherwise, Julius turned and ran, eyes burning as he left the murderess behind him.

    It should distract her for long enough for him to ensure that she had trouble easily tracking him down, and he swore that the next time they encountered each other things would be different.

 Capital Ablaze

    Fourier heard Ferris breathe a sigh of relief at seeing the palace finally come into view, and only wished he could share the feeling himself.

    Oberon shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. It has become clear that for the sake of the Kingdom, Prince Fourier must be removed.¡±

    His pace slowed as he stared at the symbol of his Kingdom, was he making the right decision returning here?

    ¡°Fourier? Is something the matter?¡± Ferris asked, his head snapping around to look at him, his hand already half-raised and an orb of healing magic starting to form.

    ¡°Everything¡¯s fine, Ferris,¡± Fourier said, forcing a smile. He really couldn¡¯t get anything past Ferris¡¯s enhanced senses.

    Luckily, a patrol of the palace guards had already spotted them, and were quickly moving up to them, leaving them with little time to talk. Ferris gave Fourier another concerned look, but he withdrew his hand, the orb vanishing.

    Fourier had no doubt that he¡¯d be interrogated more about it later though.

    ¡°Identify yourselves!¡± the patrol leader called out. His voice was stern, but he didn¡¯t appear to be angry. Just¡­ concerned. Perhaps even afraid.

    ¡°We are not currently sheltering evacuees in the palace grounds. If you are from the lower city, beds have been prepared in the estates of the upper nobles¡­¡±

    He trailed off as they got closer, and the light of the guard¡¯s lagmite lanturn revealed Fourier¡¯s face.

    ¡°Your¡ª Your Majesty?¡± the patrol leader asked, his eyes going as wide as saucers. ¡°My apologies, I didn¡¯t recognise¡ª¡±

    ¡°It doesn''t matter,¡± Fourier interrupted. ¡°I did not exactly send word ahead of me, you had no way of knowing I would be arriving.¡±

    The guard looked them up and down, taking in their rugged appearance, eyes landing on the fabric wrapped around Fourier¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Are you hurt!? We can get you to the medical beds¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m uninjured,¡± Fourier interrupted. ¡°Right now, I simply need to meet up with my advisors.¡±

    The patrol leader nodded vigorously. ¡°Of course, Your Majesty. We can escort you into the palace immediately.¡±

    He turned to his men, and made a rapid series of gestures.

    The guards took positions around them, uneasily glancing into the darkness of their surroundings.

    Fourier could understand how they felt, so he didn¡¯t linger in place. He walked towards the palace entrance, Ferris close to his side, the guards remaining spaced around him.

    As they passed through the entrance, the very first thing he took in was the unusual atmosphere.

    The palace was abuzz with activity as nobles streamed in looking for protection, stretching the knights thin as they hurried to appease them, even as several departed into the city to help the belligerent city guard.

    Fourier¡¯s own entrance had only made the chaos worse, with the nobles beginning to scramble for his attention, and the knights trying to keep them under control.

    The patrol had taken it upon themselves to escort Fourier as far as he required, which he was grateful for. They kept the people away, and cleared a path so Fourier could keep moving quickly, deeper into the palace.

    It was tempting to just tell them to begin heading for his chambers. It had been an exhausting day and he was far from his best. If he began giving out orders in such a state, he could easily end up making things worse.

    Yet despite that logic, he knew he couldn¡¯t just let things be.

    He shook his head at himself and continued walking straight ahead, towards the throne room. More than anything, he wanted to be a King that he himself was proud of, and he knew that he¡¯d always wonder if he could have done anything to help if he stepped aside now.

    ¡°I am glad to see you safe,¡± the patrol leader said as they walked. He wasn¡¯t a very high-ranking member of the palace¡¯s security, but he was the most senior person there. ¡°When we heard the news of the riots, we were fearful for your safety, but we heard that you were being looked after.¡±

    He paused, then continued in a slightly quieter tone. ¡°Can I ask, why were you not being accompanied? The city isn¡¯t safe right now, surely¡ª¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t reveal that right now,¡± Fourier interrupted. ¡°I hope you can understand.¡±

    The guard shook his head. ¡°No, no, it¡¯s quite alright, Your Majesty. I overstepped my position.¡±

    He turned and stopped, right as they reached the doors to the throne room.

    ¡°Again, it is good to see that you are safe. If you require anything, I can assign a squad to accompany you.¡±

    Fourier shook his head. ¡°Thank you for your words, but it is fine. You are dismissed, patrol leader.¡±

    The man nodded, then saluted, and his patrol followed suit.

    Fourier watched them as they began walking back to the palace entrance.

    ¡°That was strange,¡± Ferris commented.

    ¡°They¡¯re just concerned,¡± Fourier said. ¡°There¡¯s no harm in it. And it¡¯s good to see that some are still loyal to the throne.¡±

    He then turned to the doors of the throne room and pushed them open.

    The throne room was somehow even more chaotic than the entrance had been.

    It seemed like every fearful noble in the city had gathered, all desperately asking the knights what was going on, how the fire had begun, and what they were going to do in response.

    ¡°My citizens!¡± Fourier called out, walking towards the centre of the room.

    His voice cut through the noise, washing over the crowd and causing every eye to look towards him.

    ¡°Now is not the time to be panicking. Our Knights will be needed to help keep casualties to a minimum. They cannot do that while they are here, looking after you,¡± Fourier said, carefully unwrapping the cloth Julius had provided, to unveil the glowing Sceptre.

    In one fluid motion, he slammed it into the ground and pushed back against the mana still flowing back to him, causing the light to intensify.

    In seconds, the room began to quiet, as all within earshot turned to look at the light the artefact released, seemingly entranced.

    Before long however, the momentary awe the artefact had granted had faded, but more importantly, Fourier noted with a smile, so had the panic that had gripped the hearts of so many of the nobles.

    ¡°Your majesty, if we do not keep a sizable portion of the knights with us, what is to stop the rebels from attacking the palace directly to seize you?¡± a portly noble asked. ¡°Even the Finest Knight appears to be absent from his place at your side.¡±

    ¡°Julius is currently fighting Elsa the Bowelhunter, who was roaming the streets when the riots struck. It is entirely possible that there are forces that helped form the rebellion itself, if this isn¡¯t just an attack during a moment of convenience,¡± Fourier admitted. ¡°But that just proves that the knight''s duty to swiftly bring an end to all of this is of the utmost paramount, as the longer this goes on, the more time we are giving the enemies of this kingdom.¡±

    ¡°If this is enemy action, would splitting our forces not give them an even greater opportunity to strike at the palace, and destroy the heart of the kingdom though?¡± another noble pressed.

    ¡°If that¡¯s what our enemies think, then I invite them to attack the palace directly.¡± Fourier said, intensifying the light once more. ¡°They will find that we are not defenceless, and that it was a fatal mistake to attack my Kingdom.¡±

    Striding forward, Fourier¡¯s eyes locked onto one of the senior Knights, before gesturing towards the doors.

    ¡°You have your orders, my Knights. Organise your subordinates, and secure my capital,¡± Fourier said before sweeping his eyes across each of the nobles assembled here. ¡°Does anyone else here have any objections?¡±

    When silence met his inquiry, he nodded once more at his Knights, who hurried out accompanied by their men.

    Turning around, Fourier strode forward himself, to see the man who most likely had answers for him, Miklotov.

    <hr>

    Winds whipped through the city, both the physical winds that fed the fires and blew smoke through the streets, and the winds of emotions, which spread from person to person like a disease.

    Crusch watched it spread firsthand, as a rabble-rouser cried out his inane drivel, driving his followers into fits of insanity. They raged and frothed at the mouth, baying for blood.

    Specifically, Fourier¡¯s blood.

    ¡°The prince has betrayed us!¡±

    ¡°Drag him out and kill him!¡±

    ¡°For the Dragon!¡±

    Crusch grit her teeth, and pointed her palm at the leader of this particular riot.

    ¡°Fura.¡±

    An invisible blunt force shot out over the heads of the rioters, and impacted the rabble-rouser in the head, causing him to stumble backwards, and fall out of sight.

    ¡°Hold the line!¡± a voice cried out.

    It wasn¡¯t Lucius¡¯s voice, as she had sent her usual aide to look after a different section of the city. But his replacement, one of the captains of the Karsten forces, was still competent. At least, competent enough to follow orders and lead a division. She had had to bring another aide to keep track of the constant influx of messages she was receiving from other units throughout the city.

    Ever since her conversing mirror had stopped working, she had been forced to rely on the old-fashioned method of communication, written orders and reports, carried by runners who dashed between her forces.

    She wasn¡¯t going to discount sabotage as the reason behind their sudden lack of communications, but¡­

    She glanced up to the sky, at the red skies and smoke clouds that obscured the palace from view.

    ¡­but with the amount of mana that fire is releasing, it¡¯s no wonder they stopped connecting.

    The soldiers of the division Crusch was currently with were attempting to hold back the tide of rioters, holding firm in their shield-line, using clubs to beat back any who pushed too far.

    While the actions the rioters were taking could constitute treason, and Crusch would be well within propriety to execute them, she would never take such a drastic step. And she knew Fourier too would never order it. He would much rather give up his throne than cause his people to come to harm.

    But she had to admit, keeping the riots under control with only non-lethal force was proving difficult.

    A new member of the riot began crying out and coordinating the group, so Crusch pointed her palm at him as well.

    ¡°Fura.¡±

    He went down, she could see the shift in emotions as the crowd around him lost a little of their momentum.

    She waited a moment, but no new spokesperson rose up, and the rioters gradually began to lose the will to continue fighting in the face of the unrelenting pressure of the soldiers.

    They slowly began to disperse, and Crusch turned to the captain.

    ¡°Start making arrests. I want those two leaders in for questioning, you can be less thorough with the others.¡±

    The soldier nodded, and then shouted, ¡°Earth Mages! Begin cleanup!¡±

    The shield line split apart in several places, suddenly letting a few of the rioters behind their lines, right into the waiting arms of the Earth mages, handcuffs fashioned of rock in their hands. They were uncomfortable to wear, but the guards had long since ran out of regular handcuffs. The rioters just have to live with sore wrists for a while.

    With the sight of their numbers being so effortlessly reduced, the more sensible rioters started to fade away into the city, leaving the more fanatical alone, to be gradually overwhelmed.

    It only took twenty arrests to disperse the entire group. Some of the ones who escaped would likely join up with other riots in the other sections of the city, but most would not.

    ¡°Lady Crusch, we¡¯ve taken no casualties here,¡± her aide reported. ¡°Every soldier is ready to move on.¡±

    ¡°Good. Leave the prisoners to the guards, and get us moving,¡± Crusch said, looking towards the city centre. The darkness of the night usually hid the skies, but now everything was lit up with red light.

    The heart of the city had erupted into flames, sending up a plume of smoke that towered over them like a monstrous giant, ready to crush the kingdom beneath its feet.

    How did it get so large, so fast? And it¡¯s so far into the city as well. Did I station too many guards out in the slums? Are the rioters actively trying to spread it? Or is this the work of the assassins that are aiming for Fourier¡¯s life?

    ¡°Get ready to move,¡± she said, turning back to her soldiers. ¡°We¡¯re going to try and link up with Lucius¡¯s division, and get that fire under control.¡±

    <hr>

    On their way through the city, they put down another two riots as they were still forming.

    By the second, they had run out of guards, all of whom had been left behind to take care of the arrests that they had already made.

    They had scaled back the arrests they made as much as possible to compensate, but Crusch had still been forced to leave a few of her soldiers behind.

    They were stretching themselves thin, Crusch knew, but there was nothing she could do about it. The only other option was to leave their prisoners handcuffed in the street, which would be irresponsible considering the current climate of the city. They¡¯d either be free or dead within minutes.

    As they drew closer to the blaze, the smell of smoke grew thicker, and the emotions blowing around people were tainted more by fear than mania. They passed several groups of civilians on their way, all of them watching the armoured men pass with wary eyes.

    Some of them could have been the rioters who started the fire in the first place, but Crusch let them pass without examining them too closely. They had more important things to worry about than making more arrests.

    ¡°Captain, send patrols out to determine the extent of the blaze,¡± Crusch ordered. This close to the inferno, the entire world was red, and she could feel the heat on her skin. It made it difficult to tell just how far it had spread.

    She turned to the rest of her forces. ¡°Water mages! Start putting out any fires you see, but don¡¯t exhaust yourselves! There will be many people needing healing before this night ends. Fire mages, cool the area as much as possible! Everyone else, start tearing down these buildings! We can¡¯t let this spread further through the inner city!¡±

    Her soldiers started moving to carry out her orders, the division moving like a well-oiled machine. Within minutes, the surrounding buildings began to shudder and creak, as the soldiers tore into them with hooks and axes, bringing them crashing down into piles of rubble.

    The ground rumbled as the Earth mages began shifting that rubble away from the inferno, burying it underneath the dirt to prevent it from catching fire.

    Crusch caught sight of the captain talking to one of his subordinates, then watched as they approached her.

    ¡°Lady Crusch, there are signs of other firebreaks in the area,¡± he said. ¡°With your permission, I¡¯d like to begin building towards them.¡±

    Crusch nodded. ¡°Do as you believe is best. Will you need my assistance?¡±

    The captain hesitated. ¡°I could not ask someone of your rank to aid with such work¡­¡± he began, then trailed off as his gaze was drawn to the smoke plume above their heads.

    ¡°...but I do not know if we would complete the process before the fire reaches us,¡± he admitted. ¡°Your help would be greatly appreciated.¡±

    Crusch nodded. ¡°Then I will. Move your soldiers out of the way. I will tear down several at once.¡±

    The captain nodded then turned to start shouting orders.

    ¡°Excuse me, my Lady?¡±

    Crusch flicked her eyes to the soldier the captain had brought with him. He was on the younger side, but his emotions still blazed with determination and loyalty. The fear he felt was comparatively minor when compared to those.

    ¡°You may speak freely,¡± she said.

    The soldier nodded. ¡°We¡¯re being watched.¡±

    Crusch blinked, and flicked her eyes over the surroundings. She couldn¡¯t see anyone, and she couldn¡¯t imagine that there would be many capable of hiding and spying in such a dire situation. ¡°Watched? Who is watching us?¡±

    ¡°The insects,¡± the soldier pressed on, sensing her confusion. ¡°I was previously stationed in the slums, so I¡¯m used to keeping a watch for them. They¡¯re everywhere. Mostly black beetles, but I saw some stranger ones around as well. I don¡¯t recognise them.¡±

    The air was hot enough that droplets of sweat were running down Crusch¡¯s brow, but she still felt herself go cold.

    She glanced to the sky, and her eyes quickly found a black speck floating above their heads. She had seen quite a few before, but she had just assumed that they were clumps of ashes thrown up by the fire. But if this soldier was right¡­

    She readied her magic, then lashed out with a whip of wind.

    The speck shifted direction in a decidedly unnatural way, but Crusch flung her magic around in a great circle, surrounding it in a globe of wind.

    She retracted it to about the size of a children¡¯s ball, then pulled it back down to her hand.

    On closer inspection, her worst fear was proven true.

    The thing in her hand was a shiny black bug, straining its wings to try and escape the orb.

    The insects had finally chosen to leave their hunting grounds in the slums.

    The beetle spun in place for a moment, then appeared to give up, and folded its wings back inside its carapace.

    Then it looked directly at Crusch.

    It was difficult to say for certain, since insect eyes were so unlike those of humans or other animals, but Crusch was certain. It was pointing its head directly at her face, as if whoever was controlling it was taunting her.

    ¡°Captain!¡± Crusch shouted over the din of the soldiers. ¡°Order everyone to remain alert! The insects are watching us! No one is to be left without magical support! All groups and patrols must be accompanied by someone who can fight off any ambushes the swarms lay for us!¡±

    The captain¡¯s eyes widened, and he hurriedly turned to one of the fire mages.

    ¡°Fire up the regroup signal! The patrols we sent aren¡¯t accompanied by mages!¡±

    The mage nodded and pulled out a small piece of lagmite. A second later, he fired it up into the sky, and a blue star appeared overhead, briefly illuminating the region, before fading away.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    It was a miniature application of the Night Banisher technology, not usually useful for much more than public spectacles, but it occasionally saw use by the army while conducting night operations. It would be readily visible, even in the midst of the fire¡¯s light and smoke.

    The insect in her hand started clicking. Crusch eyed it, and watched the way it rubbed its legs together to cause the sharp sound. Normally, an insect¡¯s actions would hold no meaning to her, but this was a deliberate act from the enemy.

    It only took her a moment to realise what it meant.

    The beetle was laughing at her.

    Crusch narrowed her eyes. They had sent out three patrols of five to scout the surrounding areas. That meant fifteen soldiers, all of whom were outside the protection of their mages.

    How many had been set upon by hordes of insects, out there in the burning city? How many of those men were still alive? How many soldiers from her other divisions had met their fates to the jaws of those swarms?

    The beetle continued its mocking laughter, and Crusch swore she could sense the glee its controller felt in the depths of its pure black eyes.

    She clenched her fist, and the bug imploded as the wind orb shrunk to the size of a pea.

    ¡°Good work,¡± Crusch said to the soldier, flicking her wrist down and letting the remains of the bug fall to the ground. ¡°Keep an eye out for them. Raise the alarm if you see any swarms.¡±

    With that, she strode towards the buildings the captain had evacuated, drawing her sword and letting her magic and anger loose.

    <hr>

    ¡°Your Highness, I¡¯m pleased to see that you''re safe,¡± Miklotov greeted, rising from the chair he had been sitting on. ¡°However, I can tell that you''re straining your body right now. Won''t you take a seat?¡±

    Slumping forward, Fourier nearly fell onto the chair offered to him, before resting his head on the cool table for a few seconds before forcing himself to rise.

    ¡°What can you tell me about this rebellion Miklotov? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen a fire that big in my entire life,¡± Fourier said, locking eyes with the older man.

    Miklotov nodded, and began to list off the events on his fingers.

    ¡°It started in the late afternoon. Several protests began to grow rowdy, and the guards contacted the palace for additional forces. Lady Crusch took command and began organising the process of breaking them up. By the evening, the unrest had spread to the slums, and had started to form into full-blown riots. The last we heard from Lady Crusch, she had reached the slums and was beginning to get the situation under control.¡±

    ¡°The last you heard?¡± Fourier asked. Crusch was competent, he already knew, but he didn¡¯t like how ominous that statement sounded.

    ¡°The fire has reached a size where it has begun to interfere with the connections between conversing mirrors,¡± Miklotov explained. ¡°And it lies between us and Lady Crusch¡¯s location, preventing runners from reaching her quickly. I have sent some to go around the blaze, but they have not yet returned.¡±

    Fourier felt concern rising in his heart, but he squashed it down. ¡°Crusch won¡¯t leave something like that unattended. I have no doubt that she¡¯s rushing to try and get it under control right now. But what about the cause? How did all of this get so bad?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d been aware that there was a vocal minority protesting against your rule for some time now,¡± the older man said, rubbing his forehead. ¡°It is one of the reasons why I was recommending you summon the Dragon, in fact, as it was the number one complaint that tied the group together.¡±

    ¡°Instead, we intensified the issue when the Dragon never showed.¡± Fourier said, massaging his temples. ¡°Even then, I think that I could have still stalled for time, if Jaune hadn¡¯t decided to attempt my execution.¡±

    ¡°Bishop Jaune?¡± Miklotov repeated, his face going blank. He opened his mouth, but seemed totally lost for words, unable to comprehend what Fourier had just revealed.

    ¡°I¡ª I must admit, I never would have expected him to betray you,¡± the elderly man finally said. ¡°He idolised your family, and was never shy about sticking up for his beliefs. ¡±

    ¡°It was certainly strange,¡± Fourier admitted. ¡°Even now, I¡¯m certain that given the current situation, Jaune shouldn¡¯t have betrayed us. In the end, it seems that he took us all by surprise.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dismiss your gut instinct just yet, Your Highness,¡± Miklotov advised. ¡°If even you are certain that it doesn¡¯t add up, then I promise that I will look more into the matter when the current crisis is over.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d appreciate that.¡± Fourier said, ¡°However even for you, Miklotov, finding answers may be difficult, after all for they all reside with a dead man.¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± Miklotov disagreed softly. ¡°There are a myriad of ways to influence people magically after all, and this could be such a case. Thankfully we can mostly rule out the most dangerous possibility, thanks to our sensors not detecting any sign of the Divine Protection of Mind Changing¡±

    ¡°Meaning you think that the culprit needed to make direct contact with Jaune.¡± Fourier stated, ¡°I suppose, I¡¯ll just have to hope that they were in the church when we blew it up.¡±

    ¡°If it was one of the methods that required continuous maintenance, then it is likely.¡± Miklotov granted. ¡°However, I have news of many more individuals who have been acting most strangely during this riot, and if we follow our current assumption, I would expect that the culprit is still out there.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d answer many of the lingering mysteries¡± Fourier allowed, before his eyes involuntarily lowered. ¡°Still I¡¯m certain that many of the betrayal¡¯s we¡¯ve experienced weren¡¯t due to something like mind control. Oberon¡¯s eyes were clear and determined. Those weren¡¯t the eyes of somebody misled by magic.¡±

    ¡°Is misguided ideologies that much better?¡± Miklotov asked softly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Fourier admitted with a sigh, ¡°But even if it turns out that some of the ringleaders have been controlled by magic, it doesn¡¯t change the fact that to many it would be nothing but a smear campaign spread by royal money if we announce it.¡±

    ¡°It is one of the reasons I have ordered the rioters to be taken alive when possible.¡± Miklotov agreed.

    ¡°An order I agree with,¡± Fourier stated. ¡°It would be a tragedy to have to kill our own citizens whose only fault is that they have been taken advantage of, whether or not it was by somebody with the capacity to poison their minds. We¡¯ll have to get our experts to examine some of our prisoners in the near future. Until then, it is best to deal with what is in front of us.¡±

    Miklotov nodded, and glanced at the documents on the table.

    ¡°Regarding the fire, we¡¯ve already dispatched many of our knights who specialise in earth and fire magic to help contain the situation,¡± he said. ¡°And lastly, I¡¯ve even received a report that our Finest Knight has arrived at the palace and is being treated by our medical staff.¡±

    Bolting upright, Fourier shot a half-hearted glare at the old man.

    ¡°You should have led with that!¡± he exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯ll have to go check up on Julius myself once we are done here.¡±

    ¡°No need to wait on my account,¡± Miklotov said dryly. ¡°I saved the news for last, because I expected that you¡¯d want to depart to see your friend''s condition as soon as you knew.¡±

    ¡°You know me too well,¡± Fourier said, getting to his feet and heading for the door, his heart already feeling a bit lighter.

    <hr>

    Fourier walked into the infirmary and paused for a moment to take in the sight. The normally deserted area had dozens of injured guards resting on the beds, many of whom were being examined by healers, and others by assistants.

    Thankfully, Ferris tended to stand out and so it took Fourier only seconds to spot the two in a corner, but before he could approach them, an injured guardsman spotted him.

    ¡°It¡¯s the king!¡± one of the guardsmen exclaimed. Fourier felt a twinge of impatience to see them all turn their heads to him, but it was only slight. He could already see that Julius was safe, so the feeling was easily overwhelmed by the warmth he felt towards his subjects.

    ¡°Indeed, it is I, Fourier Lugnica,¡± he boomed and spread his arms wide. He could see Ferris facepalming in the background, and felt his face soften into a smile.

    ¡°It¡¯s an honour to be among my subjects who have incurred injuries for our beloved nation, and I have little doubt that many of you will soon be recovered thanks to our skilled healers. It is my hope that you will continue to put the same effort and faith in your future endeavours as you already have.¡±

    Fourier allowed a small pause, as many stared star-struck at him. ¡°I have also come to see my Sworn Knight, who bravely took on the Bowel Hunter even after he was already badly injured.¡±

    ¡°You are too kind, Your Highness.¡± Julius muttered as many eyes turned towards the bandaged man.

    With his reassurances given, Fourier stepped forward until he was next to his two friends and lowered his voice.

    ¡°I hope that you didn¡¯t make your injuries much worse by staying to fight Elsa.¡± Fourier asked, even as he glanced at Ferris in a silent question.

    ¡°I will fully recover quickly, Your Highness, it isn¡¯t anything to worry about.¡± Julius assured, as he attempted to rise, only for Ferris to push him back into the bed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to this idiot. His wrist got mangled pretty badly, and then he chose to burn it, of all things!¡± Ferris hissed glaring at the unrepentant man. ¡°It¡¯d be one thing if it was a chunk of his arm, but with how important flexibility of the wrist is, I can hardly believe he¡¯d be that stupid!¡±

    ¡°Now Ferris, we both know that Kua didn¡¯t have the power to repair such a severe wound, as exhausted as she was, and there would be good odds I¡¯d bleed out if I hadn¡¯t chosen to cauterise the wound,¡± Julius defended himself, but it seemed Ferris wasn¡¯t accepting his words.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry Ferri forgot this concept called bandaging wounds existed!¡± Ferris exclaimed, leaning forward to loom over Julius. ¡°Infections can be a problem, sure, but I could have gotten rid of the beginnings of one far easier than fixing the aftermath of burning your wounds shut!¡±

    ¡°Binding my wounds would have taken more time, and required pressure. I needed my other sword arm for at least one more strike, and I expected that the Bowel Hunter would be more interested if I choose a more extreme method,¡± Julius explained, looking past Ferris to Fourier with pleading eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you¡¯ll recover then Julius.¡± Fourier said, smiling sheepishly, as he inadvertently took a step back. Of his two friends, he knew which of the two whose displeasure he feared more.

    ¡°Are you telling me that one of your main reasons behind deciding to burn a wound close was to impress the Bowel Hunter!?¡± Ferris finally exploded, his volume rising such that Fourier expected even those outside the room might be able to hear.

    Immediately whispers started to break out, and Julius'' scandalised look only made matters worse, not at all helped by Fourier bursting out into laughter.

    For several long seconds he laughed, as he doubled over as his own tension finally broke.

    ¡°You''re going to be breaking a lot of hearts, if you act like that Julius,¡± Fourier teased as tears of mirth began prickling his eyes.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Julius protested voice rising in pitch for a second, before he released a slow breath and forced himself to relax.

    ¡°You two are going to destroy my reputation as the Finest Knight, if you spread rumours,¡± Julius said dryly, as he seemed to resign himself to his fate.

    ¡°Next time then, don¡¯t go mutilating yourself, and Ferri will consider taking things like your reputation into account,¡± Ferris said in delight.

    ¡°Now that I know that you''re alright, Julius, I better head out,¡± Fourier said, smile still bright. ¡°I¡¯m going to be going to check our communication mirrors to find out more about what¡¯s happening, and see if I can¡¯t help organise this mess.¡±

    ¡°As long as you aren¡¯t insisting on going out into the city by yourself,¡± Ferris said, ¡°I suppose I should stay here and help with the patients.¡±

    Nodding at his friends, Fourier strode out of the infirmary and headed towards the communication mirrors, mind set.

    <hr>

    Crusch swung her blade and once more destroyed the insect that had attempted to attack her blind spot.

    Crusch found herself alone, as her wind magic swirled around her, keeping the smoke and insects away, though it was unable to dissipate the sheer heat that radiated from the fire.

    Several of her guards had protested at leaving her by herself, especially in an area they knew their enemy was active in, but right now they needed to be at multiple places at once if they wanted any chance of preventing the fire from spreading.

    Their arguments had focused on the value that she presented to her enemies, should she be captured or killed. She didn¡¯t disagree, Crusch knew that presenting herself as a target would draw their enemies¡¯ attention. But even by herself, Crusch was a force to be reckoned with. She was more effective than any of the small squads she was currently able to dispatch.

    And it seemed the risk had been worth it. So far, she¡¯d been able to take care of the regular insect ambushes easily.

    Her magic put her at a natural advantage against the flying menaces, and thus far, the insect controller hadn¡¯t tried to overwhelm her with a full swarm.

    Likely, they didn¡¯t want to lose too many bugs in the heat of the blaze.

    She swung her sword, and another building was blown apart, collapsing into a smouldering pile.

    By taking down some of the worst structures, hopefully the fire would die down enough that her water and earth mages would be able to come in and quench the rest of the blaze, or at least be able to search for survivors more effectively.

    Her lips tightened at the thought that she was potentially feeding her enemy information on where she was at all times; however, as with that information and with the knowledge of where she was heading, it was all too likely that she was walking into a trap.

    The knowledge that it would lower the amount of assailants elsewhere was a meagre comfort, especially with how unusually well-staffed and powerful this rebellion had turned out to be, but it was something to keep in mind with how few people she had for such a disaster.

    Crusch never paused however and soon she found that the heat was steadily rising, to the point that even with her wind¡¯s aids, she still found her body weakening.

    <hr>

    Crusch had reached the epicentre of it all, and it would be a sight that she would carry with her for the rest of her days.

    Fire dominated the eye as far as she could see, as smoke filled the air and suffocated even those who had found ways of staying safe from the baking heat. The houses here were truly beyond saving, tearing them down would do little more than bring them down sooner.

    But they still needed to come down. This part of the fire was right up against one of the forested areas of the noble district. Good fortune had kept the wind from spreading into that area so far, but the minute the wind shifted, the trees would go up in flames, and they¡¯d spread the fire to the entire city. In the worst case, the people in the royal district could become trapped by a moat of flames around the palace.

    Such an event would be the death of the city, perhaps even the nation itself.

    Sweat dotted her brow as her body tried in vain to cool her down, even as her eyes itched due to just how dry the air had become. At this rate, Crusch had to admit that even she¡¯d need to turn back soon, as even her magic was becoming increasingly less effective, with how heavy the mana in the air felt.

    The sound of crushing metal echoed in the air, and she found her eyes drawn to it, as she furrowed her eyes. Even if her soldiers were proceeding in record time to create firebreaks around the blaze, they couldn¡¯t have reached this area yet.

    Had the fire grown hot enough that houses were beginning to come down on their own? Or could a friend or foe have caused it?

    Dashing forward, and ignoring the burn of her lungs, Crusch threw herself into the open, eyes searching for a person.

    In seconds she spotted a man, covered in familiar armour, stumbling as he walked, using his sword as a walking stick. She darted towards him and readied herself for an attack, should it be another rioter or rebel.

    ¡°Lucius?¡± Crusch asked in surprise at the familiar face of her father¡¯s lieutenant, but didn¡¯t completely lower her blade.

    His eyes took a moment to focus on her, even when his head was pointed right at her, exposing his half-burned face.

    ¡°Lady¡ª¡± Lucius began, before coughing violently, spraying the cloth around his face with blood and something darker, his one working hand clenched tight on the blade keeping him upright.

    His other was a blackened stump, seared into something unrecognisable by the intensity of the flames it had faced.

    But he didn¡¯t appear to feel the pain of it. Only one thing was swirling in the winds of his mind, a relentless determination to see his mission through.

    Crusch was not a healer, but one of her closest friends was the Blue, so she had picked up some knowledge.

    That knowledge made her certain of a single fact. If he didn¡¯t see a healer soon, her aide wasn¡¯t going to live to see the dawn.

    ¡°Lucius,¡± Crusch whispered softly, tightening her grip on her sword before steeling herself. ¡°Under ordinary circumstances, either of us would order any soldier so wounded to see an healer urgently.¡±

    Crusch allowed herself a moment to gaze at the smoke and heat billowing around her barrier, obscuring her vision and making the entire scene more closely resemble a dream, than reality.

    ¡°Do you wish me to bring you back to safety?¡± Crusch asked.

    She was well aware of the duty she had to her faltering commander, and she would carry it out, even though she was also aware of just how many people might die if they failed to contain this fire.

    ¡°No,¡± the man whispered weakly. ¡°This is far more important, I¡¯ve brought this building down and I should be able to manage two more with what I have left. Other areas will be more important, Lady Crusch.¡±

    Crusch closed her eyes for a second in respect. They were both aware that the man wouldn¡¯t survive if he continued on, but his life would help save many others.

    ¡°Do you have any last requests?¡± Crusch asked even as she took her eyes off the man to scan the surroundings, and decide on her next objective.

    ¡°Only one. I have upheld every promise and oath I have maintained my whole life, but there is a new one that I won¡¯t be able to uphold,¡± Lucius said, shame creeping into his tone. ¡°There was a girl named Plum Risch, whose mother¡¯s body or ashes I swore to bring back to her. I won¡¯t be able to do it. Can I ask you to take my place, my lady?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Crusch agreed without hesitation. ¡°It would be an honour to do so personally, Lucius. I hope that one day, we may meet again in another life.¡±

    Without any more delay, Crusch strode forward once more to the target she¡¯d decided upon. She¡¯d trust Lucius¡¯s evaluation of himself, as well as his sacrifice.

    <hr>

    Fourier stared at the metia in his hand, the reflective mirror shimmering with faint light as it tried to establish a connection. It wasn¡¯t an unusual sight, sometimes the devices could take a few moments to set themselves up.

    However, he had been staring at this one for almost a minute, and it still had not changed.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been able to connect to some units on the west side of the city,¡± a voice said, and Fourier looked up.

    A communication officer in the standard outfit of a civil official stood at attention, his back ramrod straight, and looking dead ahead, not meeting Fourier¡¯s gaze.

    Someone from the army. They tend to be a little more rigid than the usual officials.

    ¡°The west side¡­ so away from the fire?¡± Fourier asked.

    ¡°That is correct, sir. It seems that the interference is entirely natural effects from the fire rather than direct sabotage. However, we cannot rule it out completely.¡±

    Fourier nodded.

    ¡°Have the messengers sent to Crusch returned yet?¡±

    The official shook his head. ¡°They were expected some time ago, but as of yet we haven¡¯t heard anything. It is possible that they are taking some time to get through the areas where riots are still ongoing.¡±

    Fourier pursed his lips. That was a reasonable enough explanation, but something in his gut felt it wasn¡¯t adding up. The messengers employed by the palace were quick on their feet, and more than capable of avoiding trouble when out on their duties.

    And what of Crusch¡¯s messengers? She surely would have dispatched some to inform the palace of her intentions when she caught sight of the blaze. Those messengers would have only had to make a one-way trip. Why hadn¡¯t they arrived?

    Because they¡¯re dead, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. He tried to shrug it off, but he had seen Elsa Granheirt in the city. How many other assassins were running around, trying to keep them isolated and weak?

    It¡¯s a play, Fourier realised. What¡¯s the most basic rule of warfare? Divide and Conquer.

    He abruptly got to his feet.

    The official jumped as Fourier¡¯s chair clattered to the ground behind him, but Fourier didn¡¯t give him a chance to speak.

    He turned to the rest of the room, the other officials looking up at him, shocked at the sudden breaking of the silent atmosphere.

    ¡°Someone get the remaining knights! Inform them that we are leaving at once! The rest of you, use the mirrors to contact every group of our forces you can reach. Order all units to cease sending messengers, and not to split up. Do not send messengers from the palace either.¡±

    He turned to the official by his side. ¡°Do we have a Night Banisher on standby?¡±

    The official blinked. ¡°Eh¡ª yes, I believe so. It is being held on an estate not far from the palace.¡±¡¯

    ¡°Order it fired,¡± Fourier said. ¡°Send an entire patrol to carry the message. Tell them to make it a red flare.¡±

    ¡°A red flare?¡± the official asked, his face paling. ¡°That may cause massive panic. That¡¯s the signal for¡­¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Fourier said, already moving towards the door. ¡°Invasion. We are under attack by a hostile force.¡±

    He only hoped that he could reach Crusch before their enemies decided to bring their might against her.

    <hr>

    Crusch looked around, unable to stop the slight sway of her body as even her coordination became affected. Her wind barrier kept out the smoke, hot ashes and even helped steady her as she passed through the wreckage, but it could only blunt the terrible heat of the blaze.

    Her skin felt hot and raw, and her clothes would be drenched in sweat if it hadn¡¯t been evaporating off so quickly.

    On occasion, her vision would swim, and she would have to pause in order to keep herself upright.

    And that was only the effects of the fire.

    At first she¡¯d thought it a coincidence, but as she swung her blade and killed the insect spying on her, she became sure.

    The fire was weakening.

    It was the only explanation on how the insects had returned, as the heart of the fire had previously been far too much for them.

    There were two possibilities, either her men had managed even more than she expected them to with enemies actively ambushing them, or they¡¯d gotten reinforcements from somebody, most likely being the city guard.

    It was an idea that brought a tired smile to her lips.

    She scanned the area even more carefully. Crusch was well aware that she was drawing ever closer to her limit, and while the fire weakening was a welcoming sign, it also freed the enemy¡¯s insects to once more spy on her. Chances were high that she¡¯d soon be facing an actual opponent rather than her enemies'' insects soon.

    Taking a look around, she could only spot one more building that she hadn¡¯t dealt with in this segment, and so with a soft sigh, Crusch strode towards her final destination.

    The world seemed to shudder as she walked, but unless the capital had the misfortune of being hit by an earthquake on top of everything else, it was likely all in her head. Her sense of balance was being thrown off, but she was still capable of putting one foot in front of the other.

    For now, at least.

    She stepped as close to the building as she dared, and then raised her sword.

    The wind surrounding her began to speed up, before the majority of it flowed into her blade, and she brought the weapon down, releasing a blade of wind. In seconds it reached the building, and destroyed the last of the building¡¯s support, allowing the abused building to finally collapse into a heap, the flames in its timbers blown out by the intensity of the wind.

    As the sounds of falling debris rang in her ears once more, Crusch forced herself to remain still at the sounds of a blade swinging towards her back, only to allow herself to fall forward at the last second, and swing her sword around in response.

    Her signature blade of wind was a pale shadow of its normal strength, but despite its diminished form, it still completed its job and tore her attacker in two.

    Really? An attack here and now, as a fire rages across the city? He can¡¯t be a simple rioter.

    Ignoring the spray of warm blood, Crusch completed her spin and saw four additional attackers charge at her, all dressed in the signature white cloaks of Lugunica¡¯s Royal Knights.

    Ah, if those are legitimate knights, I may have met my match.

    Even that singular wind blade she had fired had torn open her wind barrier, allowing the copious amounts of smoke to surround her.

    She held her breath and raised her sword to the ready. Normally it would have been a simple matter of waiting a few seconds for her wind barrier to re-establish itself, but in a fight like this, even seconds would be valuable.

    If this is to be my death, then I will meet it head on.

    Abandoning her attempt to reform her barrier, Crusch chose to enhance her blade once more, but before she could throw herself to her death, she heard the distinct shouting of her name, cutting through even the sounds of falling debris.

    ¡°CRUSCH!¡± shouted the voice of somebody who shouldn¡¯t be here, couldn¡¯t be here and yet came barreling forward regardless.

    A man covered in armour charged through the flames, the blaze parting around him like a lion¡¯s mane, as the lion shaped armour gathered it around him. Blue light flooded the street, as he raised a glowing Sceptre above his head, bellowing his warcry. He met the first of the four royal knights with the deafening screech of folding steel, the glow intensifying momentarily, before crashing through the man¡¯s blade and sending him skidding back.

    Unable to believe what she was seeing, Crusch froze for an instant but as she saw the look in Fourier¡¯s eyes, she found herself untensing as the last bit of magic she¡¯d summoned for a desperate attack, once more returned to forming a barrier.

    For Fourier Lugunica¡¯s eyes had only been blazing like that once before, and just like last time she knew his victory was assured no matter the opponent, after all even she¡¯d fallen in front of those eyes.

    ¡°Your Majesty, you can¡¯t be running ahead!¡± shouted an unfamiliar voice as several more royal knights ran towards the fight, ready to back their king up and destroy the traitors.

    Crusch found that her eyes couldn¡¯t leave the fight, as Fourier handled the unfamiliar glowing Sceptre easily, and despite being temporarily outnumbered, he still managed to force the four back alone.

    Soon though, the traitors didn¡¯t even have numbers on their side, as the true royal guard arrived to back up Fourier. Outnumbered and outmatched, it didn¡¯t take long before all four of the traitors were incapacitated.

    But Fourier didn¡¯t spare them another thought.

    ¡°You''re alive!¡± he cried out, crashing into her with a desperate embrace. ¡°I was worried, even though I knew that you¡¯d never fall to such lowlives.¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± Crusch said, taking a step back to study Fourier¡¯s face. The king¡¯s normally pristine face was covered in soot and ash, yet with his crimson eyes blazing brighter than ever before he looked every bit as regal as he normally did. Perhaps even more so.

    ¡°I too am glad to see that you are safe.¡± Crusch admitted. She looked at him more intently, her addled mind realising that Fourier was still supposed to be calling the Dragon. Which meant¡­

    ¡°Did the Church join in on this disgusting display?¡±

    ¡°They did,¡± Fourier confirmed. ¡°I¡¯ll have to tell you all about Julius¡¯s heroics at another time. For now all you need to know is that they will no longer be a problem.¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty, we have tied up the captive least likely to die on transport,¡± said one of the loyal royal knights as he saluted them both.

    ¡°Good. The rest of the reinforcements will see to the fire,¡± Fourier ordered, eyes not leaving Crusch for an instant.

    His next words were quieter, meant only for her. ¡°I¡¯m taking you back to the palace to see Ferris. It¡¯s time to go home, Crusch.¡±

 City of Ashes

    Ferris''s ears twitched as he heard the sounds of familiar footsteps, and it was only the knowledge of how public an area this was that stopped him from heading out immediately.

    ¡°I doubt that either of them are badly wounded,¡± Julius said. Ferris had barely reacted at all, and yet the knight easily saw through him.

    Ferris scowled at him, but the knight continued unabated.

    ¡°If either he or Crusch needed urgent medical care, His Majesty¡¯s guards would be running, or at the very least, moving faster.¡±

    ¡°You''re right,¡± Ferris admitted, ears flattening out. ¡°And I¡¯m glad to know that. But I¡¯m not going to get over my anxiety just because they turned out to be safe! What if something had happened, and I was still here, too far away to help?¡±

    ¡°You put too much weight on your shoulders Ferris,¡± Julius said with a smile. ¡°Your duty was here. You¡¯ve already healed dozens of individuals, done the work of multiple healers by yourself. Even as the Blue, you do have limits, you know.¡±

    ¡°Why must I be friends with such hypocrites,¡± Ferris lamented, raising an arm to his forehead in mock exasperation. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for me insisting you take a break, you¡¯d have already headed back out.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯ve now had several hours of rest,¡± Julius said, trying to maintain an air of innocence. ¡°Whereas you started your break fifteen minutes ago. In addition, with you and Kua working together, even my burns have already been taken care of. While my buds sadly have not fully recovered, I should still be able to contribute, even alone.¡±

    ¡°You''re saying that as if you aren¡¯t one of the most famous knights of our kingdom,¡± Ferris replied scathingly. ¡°On top of all of that, you¡¯ve attracted the interest of the bowel hunter as well, going out when you''re not fully recovered would just be foolish.¡±

    Before the two could continue the argument, the door swung open to reveal Crusch and Fourier.

    ¡°Lady Crusch, are you alright?¡± Ferris asked, already rushing to get a closer look at the two of them.

    Both looked filthy covered in soot and ash, but they¡¯d taken the time to at least clean their faces, which only showcased the exhaustion on Crusch¡¯s face more.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have pushed yourself this much,¡± Ferris scolded half-heartedly, an orb of blue already surrounding her. ¡°At least, Ferri should be able to help you recover in a few days.¡±

    Crusch sat still on the edge of one of the cots, body still tense despite her exhaustion.

    Ferris felt she could relax a little, but this was not the first time he had healed her. Ferris did not often have to heal his lady, but it had happened enough that they were used to the process.

    ¡°I managed to help contribute to the fire break substantively, Ferris,¡± Crusch said calmly. ¡°Many of my men died to do the same. The fact that after all of this, I¡¯ll be fully recovered in a few days, shows that if anything I may not have pushed myself enough.¡±

    ¡°While I agree that Ferris can go overboard at times, this is not one of them,¡± Fourier said, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°I¡¯d say almost dying more than warrants his concern. If I¡¯d arrived any later¡ª¡±

    Ferris felt the blood drain from his face and eyes widened as his heartbeat rapidly began to spike, and his eyes shot up to meet Crusch¡¯s.

    ¡°What did Fourier just say?¡± he hissed, halfway between anger and terror, clutching onto Crusch¡¯s hands with all his meagre strength.

    Fourier apparently sensed the danger in the air.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you two to it,¡± he said, taking a step past them and towards the gathering healers.

    ¡°Considering the circumstances, I¡¯ll overlook you calling His Majesty by his name in public this time,¡± Crusch offered.

    She didn¡¯t look sorry in the slightest. She truly believed that risking her life the way she had was noble.

    ¡°We are going to speak more about this when we have privacy,¡± Ferris said, levelling the harshest gaze he had ever given his Lady.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have plenty of time soon,¡± Crusch allowed. ¡°I¡¯ll be heading out to collect a report from Edgar soon. He requested me personally, which he¡¯s only supposed to do if his findings are truly urgent.¡±

    Her tone betrayed the tiredness she felt, the exhaustion in her voice obvious even without Ferris¡¯s enhanced senses. ¡°I¡¯ll allow myself to rest while you work on healing me, Ferris, but I¡¯ve already alerted a maid to come fetch me in three hours'' time.¡±

    Ferris glared at his unrepretent liege, but he knew that Crusch would be leaving at the appointed time regardless of her condition. In which case he¡¯d simply need to push himself to ensure that she was both as recovered as possible, and to make sure she allowed him to come with her.

    <hr>

    Ferris watched Crusch¡¯s sleeping form, lost in thought.

    There was at least one famous assassin in the city, and possibly more, and though Ferris would give his life to defend his Lady, he knew he wasn¡¯t going to do much directly against any force strong enough to threaten Crusch.

    Thus, he was trying to think of a way to help guarantee her safety with the forces they had available.

    Julius was the first name he thought of, but not only was he still recovering, his duty lay at Fourier¡¯s side. Even with Fourier¡¯s agreement and encouragement, Ferris doubted Julius would be comfortable going with them at a time like this.

    Fourier himself was buried in meetings, and was responsible for helping organise a response to this sudden rebellion. He was already behind due to absconding for hours to aid Crusch, and Ferris knew Crusch would hate to bother him.

    Before he could think more on the matter, he felt a hand gently rest on his shoulder. Spinning around in surprise, he almost lashed out at the cloaked stranger, but stopped as an abruptly familiar scent appeared for a second and then disappeared.

    ¡°Teacher?¡± Ferris said arm half raised towards the cloaked figure whom he failed to smell at all. Looking around he spotted Clind leaning against a wall to the side, whose smell had similarly been muted.

    ¡°I am sorry to startle you, Ferris,¡± Roswaal apologised quietly, as he pulled the cloak¡¯s hood off. ¡°I¡¯ve taken to covering my scent when I am undercover. Considering just how far the unrest has spread, I thought it best to prepare for the eventuality that some demi-humans join the rebellion.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that makes sense,¡± Ferris allowed. ¡°More importantly, did you just come back? Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°I am perfectly healthy,¡± Roswaal assured. ¡°After hearing about what happened I rushed towards the palace as soon as I could, as I suspected I¡¯d find you here. Is there anything I can do to help?¡±

    ¡°Help?¡± Ferris echoed, before narrowing his eyes. ¡°There is, actually. Lady Crusch is apparently going to collect urgent information from Lord Edgar when she wakes up in another thirty minutes. As our court magician, you''re likely familiar with combat, correct?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m passingly familiar, yes,¡± Roswaal assured with a smile tinged with nostalgia. ¡°Clind, my assistant, is also quite skilled at protecting others, so we will gladly accompany you, Sir Ferris.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Ferris said as he lowered his head. ¡°Lady Crusch is the most important person in the world to me, but I can¡¯t protect her on my own. It would mean a lot to have you back me up, Teacher.¡±

    <hr>

    Crusch strode forward with a smile on her face. Waking up to find Ferris speaking with Lord Roswaal had been a surprise, but it had been a pleasant one when she had seen the joy in Ferris¡¯s eyes.

    While Ferris pretended to be very carefree, it was rare to see him genuinely open up to another person, and yet it seemed that the mysterious margrave had managed just that.

    As Lugunica¡¯s court mage, Crusch had little doubts that the man and his assistant would be an asset when it came to their investigation, and she¡¯d even been given the added benefit of a somewhat distracted Ferris.

    ¡°Alright, unless our listeners have some sort of trick like Teacher does then we should be clear to talk,¡± Ferris reported. ¡°Now. What was this about you almost dying, Lady Crusch?¡±

    Somewhat distracted, but not quite distracted enough, she supposed.

    ¡°After I¡¯d finished taking out the last segment of the fire break of my sector, five traitorous royal knights ambushed me,¡± Crusch admitted. ¡°While I may have been able to take a few down, I would almost certainly have perished if His Majesty hadn¡¯t arrived with reinforcements.¡±

    ¡°Lady Crusch,¡± Ferris whispered, looking horrified.

    Should I even give him the full truth on how close it was?

    ¡°Even that may be putting it lightly, in truth it was close enough that if King Fourier hadn¡¯t rushed ahead by himself and stalled four of the royal guards themselves, I would likely be dead now,¡± Crusch said, refusing to hide the full story from herself or Ferris. Better to get it out in the open.

    ¡°Lady Crusch, you must have known the odds when you went by yourself,¡± Ferris said, not bothering to keep the agony off his face that he knew she¡¯d be able to read anyway. ¡°Just why did you do it?¡±

    ¡°Because even if it had cost me my life, stopping that fire would have been worth it.¡± Crusch said with conviction. ¡°It is the duty of those in power to put their subjects first.¡±

    ¡°You''re wrong,¡± Ferris said quietly. ¡°That fire would have claimed a great many lives, but Lady Crusch will surely save even more if she lives a long life, with how much strength and influence you have.¡±

    ¡°If we assume no-one rises above their station perhaps,¡± Crusch allowed before adopting a more severe tone. ¡°However, it is impossible to know just what potential resides in those people. Great innovators, diplomats and more often come from such backgrounds, and it is equally possible that they would far outstrip the amount of good I could do myself.¡±

    Ferris broke the gaze, staring at the ground without another word, even as the wind around him continued to rage chaotically.

    ¡°I value your opinion, Ferris, and I¡¯m grateful you shared it, even if I disagree.¡± Crusch said gently, before turning to look at Lord Roswaal who had remained quiet. ¡°Lord Roswaal, if you don¡¯t mind, may I ask your opinion on the matter?¡±

    ¡°I believe you are underestimating your importance to His Majesty, Lady Crusch, as well as how truly important those who make history are,¡± Roswaal said, closing an eye and letting his yellow eye focus on her. ¡°You are correct that there are many important individuals who arise from squalor, but I believe such talented individuals are far more rare than you might imagine.¡±

    ¡°Even if they were far rarer than I believed, is it not possible that there were some of them, waiting to be saved?¡± Crusch asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s theoretically possible, but I also believe that many such people would also have their own methods of escaping such a fire,¡± Roswall said with amusement. ¡°Their methods may range from convincing others to help them escape such as Hoshin, to simply being powerful enough to walk out on their own such as Reid.¡±

    Roswaal¡¯s gaze shifted to Clind as he spoke. ¡°Clind, I asked you to look into what news we had about survivors from the fire.¡±

    ¡°Several sections survived due to local leadership in Astra street. Miraculous,¡± Clind responded, retrieving a sheaf of papers from under his jacket.

    Roswaal took it, and glanced over the first page.

    ¡°Astra street was a section close to some of the worst heat, and yet its casualties were relatively light,¡± he read off the document, swinging his hand through the air in the dramatic way he tended to prefer, which Crusch had to admit fit exactly with what Ferris had said of the man.

    ¡°It was entirely due to the leadership of a local living there, by the name of Alf. Due to his actions, he and many others who otherwise would have perished in the fire were saved. So I do not believe it was up to you alone to save our citizens. Many are great enough to save themselves.¡±

    Roswaal''s smile deepened and he rested a hand on Ferris¡¯s shoulder, the wind shifting to show affection.

    ¡°Of course, such nobility is a key aspect of your character and one of the reasons you will provide such aid to his majesty over his reign,¡± Roswaal said, opening both his eyes. ¡°Is that not right, Ferris?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want Lady Crusch to change,¡± Ferris admitted. ¡°But I do wish that you¡¯d be willing to give her life the same value I do.¡±

    ¡°I do not believe I could be happy if I held my own life that highly Ferris,¡± Crusch said, giving a melancholic smile. ¡°You already hold my life far too highly if you believe it is above thousands of others, and I can only be thankful to know that His Majesty will always be ready to help you, should I perish.¡±

    ¡°Lady Crusch you can¡¯t speak like that!¡± Ferris said, wringing his hands together. ¡°I don¡¯t ever want to think about the idea of you dying, or moving on past it.¡±

    Crusch watched as the margrave squeezed Ferris¡¯s shoulder in support, and how it helped calm Ferris down from the upsetting topic.

    That was good. Ferris had never been very good at opening up to people, but now it seemed that he had someone else who could drag a smile out of him even when he was in one of his moods.

    That thought brought a smile to her own lips.

    <hr>

    ¡°Lady Crusch, thank you for coming personally,¡± Edgar said, his face perfectly composed. But his appearance was belied by the wind swirling chaotically around him.

    ¡°The information I want to provide you is quite sensitive and I believe that our mutual enemy might have noticed if I had gone through the normal channels. It¡¯s about the insects you asked me to look into before.¡±

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Pausing the elderly men, bent over and pulled open a container pulling out an insect body that she recognized, yet had somehow become frozen in place.

    ¡°Capturing one alive was quite difficult, and even casting the necessary spells to preserve it took much more effort then it should have, but once I started examining it many things clicked into place. These things are so substantially different from the ordinary insects they most resemble, to the point where they are practically a new type of classification. Their group behaviour has radically changed, as they¡¯ve gained both the ability to work together and with distinct leaders, their bodies have started to recognize foreign mana and attack it, and even their stingers have grown tremendously!¡±

    Edgar said, face breaking into a wide smile as he thrust the insect closer for them to look at.

    ¡°That¡¯s disgusting.¡± Ferris hissed, taking a step back and raising a sleeve to hide his face.

    ¡°Disgusting?¡± Edgar repeated a baffled tone taking his place for a second, before realisation took his place. ¡°Ah, I wouldn¡¯t have thought someone as accomplished as the Blue would struggle to see the magnificent in these insects, simply due to something as shallow as appearances.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s identical,¡± Crusch said furrowing her brows as she ignored the bickering and compared the insect''s form to the one that had been spying on them.

    ¡°You¡¯ve encountered them before in their current form?¡± Edgar asked, finally looking away from Ferris to refocus on her.

    ¡°I have,¡± Crusch confirmed before hesitating.

    Any information Edgar provides will be useful, but will I taint the information if I tell him my suspicions?

    ¡°I will elaborate on where and how, after you tell me the rest of your conclusions,¡± Crusch said after a few seconds of deliberation.

    ¡°Very well,¡± Edgar said reluctantly. ¡°I mentioned that their new coordination is astounding, correct? To expand on that it appears the primary cause is their gates having an artificial connection to each other. At a guess, it¡¯s wide enough for them to share information such as their senses, and perhaps even motor functions. At the same time though, this does provide a potential solution for them. For as long as we have one alive, we can potentially use their link to others to track them down.¡±

    Automatically, Crusch found her eyes drifting to the cloaked figure on her right, although she closed them before she was subjected to the disorienting field hiding Roswaal¡¯s identity.

    ¡°I¡¯ll examine them myself once we finish collecting the information,¡± Roswaal said, tone wry.

    ¡°Seeking an independent examination?¡± Edgar said neutrally, even as the wind surprised her by showing the information delighted the man rather than infuriate him, even before he saw who she¡¯d requested.

    Reaching up the margrave lowered his hood, to reveal himself with a flourish. ¡°Roswaal K Mathers at your service.¡±

    Edgar blinked, then a wide grin broke out on his face.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Roswaal,¡± Edgar said enthusiastically. ¡°It is good to see such a well qualified individual working on such a pressing matter.¡±

    ¡°You flatter me, Lord Edgar¡± Roswaal said easily, his eyes flicking back to her own, wind shifting to show his trepidation, as he pulled the hood back up once more, hiding his identity from the world.

    ¡°We have been given ample proof that the swarm of insects is currently being controlled by a human¡¯s intelligence.¡± Crusch said with a hint of annoyance. ¡°Evidence suggests real time manipulation and information gathering so far. Could a gate connection have allowed this?¡±

    ¡°A gate connection could theoretically manage it, but I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s the most likely possibility,¡± Edgar said, tilting his head in thought. ¡°There would be multiple issues though. Connections to animals for use in spying has been studied and documented in the past, but these insect gates being interconnected would multiply the difficulty by an order of magnitude. The chances of alien thoughts leaking through and contaminating humans would become far greater, as would interpreting a mix of multiple senses.¡±

    ¡°Assuming this was the method used, and you connected to one,¡± Crusch said. ¡°Would the death of the insect impact you, and could you easily connect to another?¡±

    ¡°No, assuming you could manage to make it past the various difficulties forging a bond would pose, the things that once hindered you would become advantages. In many ways rather than an individual insect, this is closer to a hive mind. Should one perish, moving to another would be easy, and barely impact the controller at all. The only way to truly cause them harm through the insects would be eradicating them entirely.¡± Edgar said, frown deepening before colour rapidly drained from his face.

    ¡°I can only hope it was an undocumented divine blessing then, as the alternative is nearly too horrible to say.¡± Edgar concluded.

    ¡°Alternative?¡± Crusch asked, raising an eyebrow.

    For several long seconds there was silence before Edgar¡¯s eyes darted to Ferris of all people before he finally decided to answer, even as the wind around him blew in a chaotic storm.

    ¡°Let us just say that children are far better at adapting than adults to such experimentation,¡± Edgar said darkly. ¡°For something so delicate, there would also have been numerous failures as well.¡±

    Crusch''s frown deepened at the revelation of their enemies'' depravities, but she was relieved to see that Ferris¡¯s wind hadn¡¯t lost its tight control.

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll simply have to make tracking down the controller one of our top priorities.¡± Crusch said decisively. ¡°Lord Roswaal, can you give me an estimate on how long it would take you to track it down?¡±

    ¡°It depends on how they formed the connection I suppose, but it won¡¯t take more than a few days even assuming that they took all possible precautions,¡± Roswaal drawled, reaching out to grasp the insect from Edgar.

    Edgar let the man take it, then leaned in closer to Crusch to mutter under his breath, ¡°There is one more thing. I have been continuing to keep track of the regular insects, and their behaviour has changed in worrying ways.¡±

    Crusch turned to him, and responded, her voice similarly quiet, ¡°How so? Have the attacks picked back up?¡±

    Edgar shook his head. ¡°No, but there have been more sightings. One in particular is a concern. A group of beetles was found covering the entire wall of a little-travelled alley..¡±

    ¡°How many died?¡±

    ¡°None. The bugs apparently did not notice the witnesses, and they were able to escape before that changed.¡±

    Crusch¡¯s brows creased. That was unusual¡­ but didn¡¯t appear to be all that important. ¡°Then, is there a particular point you wanted to bring up about this? I know we¡¯ve had sightings of swarms before. What makes this one different?¡±

    ¡°They were too exposed,¡± Edgar explained. ¡°We¡¯ve never had an eyewitness report of a resting swarm, and the behaviour that the eyewitness described was quite unusual for beetles. Their carapaces opened and closed like they were breathing, many appeared to be fighting each other, and they were packed tightly together.¡±

    He paused. ¡°I can¡¯t say for certain, since I didn¡¯t see them, but I believe they may be about to swarm.¡±

    Crusch tilted her head. ¡°Haven¡¯t they already done so? Many swarms have already attacked the citizenry.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Edgar said. ¡°Forgive me, I forgot that this is a technical distinction.¡±

    He paused, gathering his thoughts, then began, ¡°The word ¡®swarm¡¯ refers to any grouping of insects, but for us who study the smaller creatures of the world, it refers specifically to any who have undergone a specific physiological change. After the environment changes in a way that puts stress on the group, they rapidly grow in numbers, grow more passive to conserve energy, and when enough of them have built up, they explode out with great aggression.¡±

    Crusch frowned, working through the implications of that knowledge.

    ¡°Do you mean to say that the attacks will get worse?¡± she asked.

    Edgar nodded. ¡°Much, much worse. We don¡¯t have a good estimate of their numbers, but in the worst case they could very well black out the sky. Luckily, the swarming insects will not live long, no more than a few days.¡±

    Crusch nodded slowly.

    ¡°So they¡¯re planning to make a major move¡­ how long before they begin?¡±

    Edgar shrugged. ¡°I did not observe them personally, so I can¡¯t really give an accurate timeline. It could be weeks. It could be hours.¡±

    ¡°Hours?¡± Crusch asked, and Edgar nodded.

    ¡°In that case, we need to inform His Majesty immediately,¡± Crusch decided. She looked back to the others, and said, ¡°We¡¯ll be returning to the palace at once.¡±

    Ferris shot her a worried look, but Roswaal placed a hand on his shoulder, seeming to calm him.

    ¡°Tha~t is acceptable. It would be easier to properly study this specimen there,¡± the court mage drawled, reaching out to return the paralysed insect to Edgar.

    But as he did so¡­

    ¡°Ah~? What¡¯s all this? Playing with dear sister¡¯s toys, hmm~?¡±

    But right before Edgar could grasp it, a voice rang out, causing Crusch to spin around in surprise.

    In the middle of the street stood a young boy, with long straight hair and wearing fine clothes.

    How did he sneak up on us?

    ¡°We see that you¡¯ve arranged for a feast, it was painful to wait with such an empty stomach, but now we¡¯ll finally get to eat and indulge ourselves, the first bite is sure to be delicious when you''re this hungry.¡±

    The wind that spiralled around the boy seemed almost venomous to her eyes, polluting all it touched and making the boy¡¯s eyes stand out all the more.

    Those eyes didn¡¯t belong to anything that could still be called a human being, and were magnitudes worse than even the insane eyes of Biehn Argyle, someone twisted enough to experiment on human corpses.

    ¡°Eddie, it¡¯s time to go home,¡± the boy sang even as he steadily approached the five of them, not a trace of fear in his eyes.

    ¡°Eddie?¡± Edgard mused an uncomfortable look crossing his face as he took a step back, allowing Crusch to step forward with her sword drawn.

    ¡°I do not know who you are, but I¡¯ll give you this one opportunity to back down.¡± Crusch declared, already allowing her wind to cover her blade in preparation.

    ¡°Lady Crusch as well?¡± the boy mused, intonation seeming to rapidly shift. ¡°We¡¯ll welcome you to take part in our feast, and join the dinner table.¡±

    ¡°If you know Lady Crusch''s name, won¡¯t you tell us yours?¡± Ferris said carefully, taking a step back to join Edgar¡¯s slow retreat.

    ¡°Argyle always was a coward who let his lady do his fighting for him.¡± the boy mused, smile widening at seeing Ferris¡¯s slowly growing panic. ¡°Do not worry, we are not so impolite as to not share our name. We are the Witch Cult¡¯s Sin Archbishop of Gluttony, Roy Alphard.¡±

    For a second Crusch¡¯s blade wavered at the knowledge of just who they were facing, an opportunity Roy did not waste for a second as he launched himself forward towards them with a shriek of laughter, only to be met halfway by a figure that he hadn¡¯t accounted for.

    The elderly mage slammed into the youthful looking archbishop in a storm of fists and kicks, each blow a masterstroke that would have destroyed any normal individual in a single strike. Yet the youth¡¯s expression remained relaxed even as he parried every attack, even as he was forced to give ground.

    ¡°Do not use our real names. Gluttony can use it against you,¡± Roswaal declared, eyes not leaving the archbishop for an instant.

    ¡°We are curious who you are, to know that, but I suppose we¡¯ll know soon enough.¡± The boy mused with a twisted smile, as he went on the attack for the first time. Heart, lungs, kidneys, liver, and spleen each attack was aimed at one of the five vital organs, as the archbishop¡¯s fists which had destroyed thousands lashed out.

    It¡¯s bloody history enough that even despite his greater speed and strength, it was the elderly mage that soon started giving ground.

    If Roswaal¡¯s strikes were that of a master martial artist with each lightning quick and precise blow perfectly calculated, then Roy¡¯s were those of a beast. Each and every strike was aimed for possible weak spots with no delays due to calculations, as the youth surrendered himself entirely to instinct alone, as his eyes stared in delight at the unexpected encounter.

    ¡°Butler, get those three out of here now!¡± Roswaal shouted, as despite conventional wisdom the older man was pushed back, as he was forced to devote the majority of his attention simply to guarding against his opponents counter attacks, which had no pattern to discern.

    ¡°Understood,¡± Clind nodded easily as he pulled a startled Ferris and Edgar under each arm. ¡°Come, I will back up Master soon.¡±

    Crusch grit her teeth, and swung to release her famous blade of wind, using a moment where it wouldn¡¯t impact Roswaal as well. Such timing in a duel as ferocious as theirs should have been impossible, but Crusch proved that wrong in an instant as her invisible blade swung to cut the sin archbishop in two. Yet defying all logic, Roy spun and dodged the invisible blade without even breaking the flow of his attacks.

    Crusch couldn¡¯t quite understand how simply knowing their names allowed the menace to so easily read them, but after seeing proof she would be foolish to stay and force Roswaal to protect her.

    ¡°Teacher, you¡¯d better stay alive,¡± Ferris called out from the retreating form of Clind, a maelstrom of his emotions leaking into the wind.

    I¡¯ll place my trust in you, but for Ferris¡¯s sake, please stay alive, Roswaal.

    But as if Crusch¡¯s decision was a signal, the archbishop tore towards her in an instant, his speed seeming to multiply. But as Crusch raised her blade to intercept the human missile, she saw the ground liquify causing the archbishop to lose his footing even before the palm strike from Roswaal sent him skidding backwards once more.

    ¡°Go!¡± Roswaal shouted, and the uncharacteristic volume from the generally calm man, and knowledge that the mage had her back, allowed Crusch to turn her back to them and run.

    ¡°I know you''re hungry, but that¡¯s no excuse to claim the whole buffet for yourself,¡± Roy said, pulling two daggers out of his ratty clothes. ¡°We don¡¯t know how you''re hiding yourself, but if you are, that must mean you fear being found out if you''re exposed.¡±

    <hr>

    Fourier rubbed his exhausted eyes with his free hand, wishing not for the first time that he could at least temporarily let go of the Sceptre occupying his other. Changing clothes had been an ordeal, even with one of their servants, helping him through it. He supposed it made his skipped bath a mixed blessing, as it was one area he refused to let another help him now that he wasn¡¯t an invalid.

    More than anything though he wanted to just drop and go to sleep, preferably on his bed, but he¡¯d take the floor if it meant ending this day.

    Closing his eyes, he mentally pulled on the Sceptre¡¯s mana causing the burning sensation to intensify as the flow of mana increased, even as he used the excess mana to once more temporarily stave off the feeling of exhaustion.

    ¡°Sire, are you sure that you shouldn''t rest?¡± asked one of the officials assigned to work with him. ¡°It isn¡¯t healthy to be circulating your mana that frequently.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go to sleep when this is all dealt with,¡± Fourier answered, perhaps a bit too loudly, attracting the attention of many of the workers.

    I can see many of them smiling, and even working harder. It falls to the leader to serve as a role model and inspiration for everyone.

    ¡°You¡¯ll burn yourself out at this rate,¡± the official scolded. But Fourier noticed that even he was smiling softly as he turned his focus back to his work.

    Fourier found himself smiling back as he gazed at the hard work of his citizens at preserving their kingdom. With them at his back, did his body really think he¡¯d yield to something as transient as pain?

    ¡°Urgent report!¡± a messenger shouted as he rushed into their workforce, pale faced and panicked as he skidded to a halt in front of Fourier.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± the man forced himself to say, not even pausing to catch his breath. ¡°Pardon my rudeness but you must see this.¡±

    Two knights stepped forward to intercept him in case he bore anything dangerous, but Fourier waved them off.

    There were assassins in the country, so he had to be careful, but his gut was telling him he needed to listen to the man. He was pale faced and shaking, a look of primal terror in his eyes.

    ¡°Pass it over,¡± Fourier ordered.

    The man handed him a barely sealed envelope, his hand shaking. Once Fourier took it, whatever had been animating the man gave out, and he collapsed to his knees.

    Fourier sliced the envelope open, pulled out a single sheaf of paper, and then, with only the slightest apprehensive hesitation, started scanning the report.

    Not a moment later, he froze in disbelief.

    That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s impossible!

    A cold sweat ran down his back, and he brought the paper a little closer to him, his eyes shifting to make sure no one else could see it.

    Is this why I couldn¡¯t call Volcanica?!

    ¡°How much confirmation do we have that this report is accurate?!¡± Fourier asked, his tone uncharacteristically harsh, as he allowed himself to lean his weight onto the Sceptre.

    ¡°Where is the mirror located nearest to the far Lifaus Plains! I must see this for myself, with my own eyes.¡± Fourier shouted, bright blue light emanating from his entire body, before freezing as he noticed the many eyes upon him.

    I have to be careful or I¡¯ll start a full blown panic. Od, I¡¯m almost panicking.

    ¡°How many people have seen this report?¡± Fourier asked, watching the surroundings from the corner of his eyes. He saw just how many of the officials in the room inched closer, curious to see what could have upset their liege this much.

    ¡°Not many, your majesty,¡± the messenger said, looking up at Fourier. ¡°I flagged this as a confidential report, and rushed straight here, so not many would have gotten the opportunity.¡±

    This could change everything. With this information, I could either stop the rebellion, or cause it to spark to a far higher fever.

    ¡°I¡¯m ordering a full council attendance on my authority as King, to be held in one hour from now,¡± Fourier declared, already starting to walk away, before pausing.

    ¡°My citizens, I know many of you are curious as to what information could be so urgent, but all I can tell you right now is that our brightest minds will be pouring over it soon. If I could share more without putting you all in great danger, I swear that you would be the first to know. Please continue your hard work on your current tasks, even if I sadly will no longer be able to join you,¡± Fourier said, as he swept his vision across the room, taking the time to meet the eyes of each of the local leaders during his impromptu speech.

    Carefully he solemnly walked out of the room, and then when he was far enough away that he wouldn¡¯t be heard, he shifted into a run, sprinting as fast as he could towards the palace communication room.

    I swear I¡¯ll find out the truth!

 Interlude: Volcanica

    I am Volcanica. In accordance with the ancient covenant, I hath come to oversee the coronation of the descendant of the Lion King.

    Such were the words that span endlessly through the great dragon¡¯s head as he flew through the skies, the wind howling around him.

    Far below, the desert swept past, the only landmarks visible at such a great distance being the flower-patches of mabeasts.

    His two sets of wings beat slightly out of sync with each other, the thump-whump sound they made as they displaced air sounding somewhat like a heartbeat.

    I am Volcanica. In accordance with the ancient covenant, I hath come to oversee the coronation of the descendant of the Lion King.

    He did not know how long the heir had been calling him. He had only noticed the call during one of his rare bouts of sanity, and even then, had almost forgotten what it meant.

    But the very moment he did remember, he had thrown himself off the tower, and started flying towards the call.

    I am Volcanica. In accordance with the ancient covenant, I hath come to oversee the coronation of the descendant of the Lion King.

    But his sanity could only last so long before the fog returned. It was all the once-great dragon could do to repeat the words of his covenants again and again, hoping that the repetition might engrave them deep into his mind, that he might still be able to fulfil his role, even in the depths of madness.

    In his weakest moments, when he knew enough to know how far he had fallen, he feared that the effort would be in vain. It would be another hundred years before the boy arrived. In that time¡­ would he forget even more? Would he be any more than a beast at that point?

    He felt his mind drifting further away every year. Even when flying, he lost focus, and his memories began to bleed together.

    Why doth Farsale summon mineself so urgently? Hath disaster befallen them? Doth the Witch of Greed again trouble the world? No¡­ Mineself trapped her¡­ did I not?

    His eyes closed in thought, and when he reopened them, the desert was gone, replaced with a rocky grassland.

    I am Volcanica. In accordance with the ancient covenant, I hath come to oversee the coronation of the descendant of the Lion King.

    He was still repeating his mantra, a reminder of his mission. He had to remember it. But it was fading from his thoughts, holding little meaning to him.

    Hath Vollachia began to march again? To my recollection, they used magic circles to deactivate mine barrier. Mineself couldn¡¯t see them, not until Gionis managed to break through the fog.

    The fog had been lighter in those days, and once cleared, it remained so for many months before it crept back. That had only been sixty years previously. How rapidly he had degraded.

    He reached for his barrier, the enormous magical construct tensing and vibrating as it informed him of Lugunica¡¯s state.

    Every person, every illness, every misfortune, it was all transmitted through the strands of magic towards him, like he was the spider in a massive web.

    It was working, there were no areas of nothingness. He had worried over nothing.

    He stopped in midair, uncertain of his purpose now. The barrier was fine, it did not require maintenance. Then¡­ why was he so far from the Watchtower? Why was he flying away from it, from his duty to protect the seal?

    I am Volcanica. In accordance with the ancient covenant, I hath come to oversee the coronation of the descendant of the Lion King.

    The words repeated through his mind twice before he comprehended them, and he once again became aware of the magic call reaching out to him, and the urgency the call contained.

    He abruptly began moving again, trying to focus on the call. He couldn¡¯t let himself falter again. Not after he had already let them wait so long. Not when¡­ when Farsale needed him so urgently.

    He closed his eyes again, and when he opened them, he was already past the mountains, and had reached the edge of the Lifaus plains.

    In the far distance, he could make out the massive tree that towered over the plains, like a ¡®skyscraper¡¯ made of wood. Volcanica had doubted him when the boy¡­ when Flugel had first said the word, but now that it had grown so large, he couldn¡¯t help but agree. It truly did seem to scrape against the sky when seen from the ground.

    It had likely grown taller since Volcanica had last landed by its side to take a look. He¡¯d like to see it again someday. Perhaps when the boy¡¯s mission was finished.

    To the east, Mount Cordor stood tall, the lone peak providing the dragon with his most important landmark. Just beyond it lay the capital, where Volcanica would be able to solve the issues that were troubling the people.

    I am Volcanica. In accordance with the ancient covenant, I hath come to oversee¡ª

    Then he felt pain, and he was falling.

    It shot through his mind like a hot knife, the fog screaming away as he became more aware of himself than he had been in decades.

    He had been injured before, in the battle with Sekhmet, when sealing Satella, during combat with other dragons, but never so abruptly.

    Hath Envy escaped? Doth she walk here? Did I fail?

    He tried to stabilise himself in the air, his wings beating furiously, but that only succeeded in sending him spiralling. A moment later, he realised why.

    The membranes of his left wings had been shredded. They were lighter than the rest of his body, and far easier to damage.

    He could heal them, but not in the middle of combat. He¡¯d have to land.

    His head moved, his eyes shifting, trying to spot the black field that heralded her arrival, but he saw nothing.

    He reached out to feel the world through his gate, and then he sensed mana. A veritable storm of wind mana, shooting towards him like an arrow from the heavens.

    He rolled, losing altitude rapidly, but now facing his opponent.

    His eyes picked out a pink blur, and before he even focused on it, he opened his mouth, and the sky turned white.

    A stream of pure light erupted from his jaws, burning its way through the air, rendering the world temporarily silent as it burned even sound away.

    But the pink blur abruptly changed course, blasting itself clear of his breath with a burst of wind.

    Volcanica cut off his breath, and rolled again, diving towards the ground, his addled mind trying to work out who this new enemy was.

    Not a witch, there was no trace of the miasma in its mana. Nor could it be a great spirit, this blur had a material form composed of flesh. He would have been able to sense it sooner if it had not.

    He landed, the ground trembling as it took his momentum, and then he stood on his hind legs, gazing up at his opponent.

    They shot downwards, hitting the ground not far from him, like one of the stars that occasionally fell from the heavens.

    The impact threw up a cloud of dust and earth, but a blast of wind quickly scattered it, leaving his enemy exposed to his sight.

    ¡°Thou art¡­ the Oni God.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t sure of himself, the face before him was not one he recognised. But now that he could properly see her, he felt certain. Such powerful mana was not something a human body could handle, and the way she pulled mana towards herself was reminiscent of the ability of an Oni. This could only be the strongest among their number.

    However¡­

    ¡°Thou lacks thy horns.¡±

    He could clearly make out the spot on her forehead, glowing bright pink, as her body tried to deploy an organ which no longer existed.

    The Oni God hissed as she took a step towards him. Her body trembled, her magic having placed a great strain on her.

    Flight magic was not unknown to Volcanica, he used it himself for the majority of his ability to fly. It was an elegant blend of Earth, Fire, and Wind, beyond all but the most skilled magic users.

    The Oni God had replicated the effect with brute force, relying solely on Wind to blast her into the air and change directions. That must have been how she flew over him, she shot past him and savaged his wings while he was in flight.

    Her heretical use of magic had left her body battered and bruised, but the Oni were a tough race. She was still capable of combat.

    ¡°Ram needs no horn,¡± she declared in response to his statement, and the wind around her cried out with bloodlust, ready to fight to the death. ¡°She has her cute sister supporting her, and that is all she needs.¡±

    She lashed out with a blade of wind, but it was just a probing attack, far weaker than the one she had used to shred his wings.

    He didn¡¯t even need to actively counter it. The magic simply dissipated on contact with the scales on his neck.

    He continued examining her, trying to work out the curiosity of her existence. She had no horns, and yet she was able to use the full power of the Oni God. It was an impossibility. So that was not the full story.

    ¡°That object¡­¡± he said, eyes drawn to the glimmer of reflected sunlight on her head. She was wearing a tiara of some kind, that seemed to shine with otherworldly light to his eyes. There was mana in it. A metia of some kind.

    It was¡­ strengthening a connection? No, forcing awareness of it?

    ¡°One horn,¡± Volcanica realised. ¡°And a sister. Thou art a twin. A connection of Synesthesia.¡±

    Rage flashed the Oni God¡¯s eyes as he said it, and she launched another blade of wind at him, this time not holding back in the slightest.

    Volcanica opened his mouth, and erased the attack with light.

    The Oni God shot to the side to avoid being caught in the blast, and not a second too soon.

    His breath disintegrated the ground where she had been standing, and continued onward, carving a deep groove into the Earth. He deactivated it a little late. He used to be able to allow his breath to leave untouched anything he did not expressly wish to be annihilated. In the past, he had bathed cities in dragonfire and only removed the invaders, leaving the buildings and citizens unharmed.

    Such a feat was now beyond him, with the fog corrupting his thoughts. He would not be able to use it to counter her magic, not if he wanted to keep her unharmed.

    ¡°You will not touch Ram¡¯s sister!¡± the Oni God cried, hurling another blast of wind at him.

    Volcanica reached out with his mind, and twisted the space in front of the magic. It flew straight and true, but once it reached the area in his grasp, it diverted its course, flying up into the sky.

    Rending space was the most unusual of Flugel¡¯s ideas, but it was a technique that had proved its usefulness many times.

    ¡°Mineself hath no interest in thy sister,¡± Volcanica stated. ¡°It is merely to sate mine curiosity.¡±

    He whipped out his tail, and the ground in front of the Oni God exploded, cutting her dash to the side short.

    ¡°And unto that curiosity, for what reason have you attacked Mineself here?¡± he asked.

    But the pain of his wings was already fading as his membranes knitted back together, and the fog had started to rise at the edge of his thoughts.

    Why did he have to ask what her intentions were? She was the Oni God, she meant to annihilate all things. She had been a necessary creation back in the days of the Witches, but now? She was a threat to the world, nothing more, and nothing less.

    Without even waiting for an answer, he opened his mouth, and blasted her again, this time aiming to take her life.

    She hurled herself into the air with a burst of Wind, but Volcanica tracked her movements, bringing the beam of his breath up to follow her.

    She fled, blasting herself to and fro to avoid the beam, and Volcanica continued trying to bring it to bear on her, causing it to light up the sky, a line of light that would be visible across the entire plain.

    Finally, she darted down so she was in line with the horizon, and Volcanica was forced to cut off his attack. He couldn¡¯t risk accidentally sweeping his breath over a village or town and erasing it.

    That would break his covenant.

    His opponent took the opportunity to land, the connection between the sisters flaring as she drew more heavily on it. Volcanica focused on her again, a trace of confusion piercing the fog, bringing him up from his brief madness.

    This¡­ she wasn¡¯t the Oni God he knew. He didn¡¯t know how he hadn¡¯t realised until now, but the previous Oni God had never shown such restraint in combat. Nor had he ever heard of the Oni God having siblings. They should have been the first to die when the madness overtook her.

    Was he wrong? Was this truly the same entity?

    ¡°Tell Mineself, what is thy name?¡± he asked.

    The Oni glared up at him.

    ¡°I am Ram. Rem¡¯s older sister, and maid of Roswaal K. Mathers.¡±

    Roswaal.

    That name tugged at the fog, but Volcanica couldn¡¯t place it. Had he ever known a Roswaal? Perhaps it was a common name.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    His opponent had already refilled her Od with mana through the connection. That was an effective, if unusual, strategy to fight him. He was accustomed to turning the surrounding mana away from those he fought, preventing opposing mages from recovering their strength.

    The fact that this opponent had a source of mana beyond his ability to manipulate made her a slightly more competent threat.

    But¡­

    Isn¡¯t talking things out and trying to find common ground the best way to resolve our differences?

    Farsale would disapprove of him killing her just because of that.

    ¡°For what reason hath thou attacked Mineself?¡±

    The Oni¡­ no, Ram. He had asked for her name, so he should use it. At least until he forgot it.

    Ram scowled at him.

    ¡°Ram wants to. There is no other reason.¡±

    She was lying. Her stance was more defensive than aggressive, leaning more on her back foot, hunched slightly, her hands raised to guard her body rather than outstretched. The way she had positioned herself, the sweat on her brow, and the glint of fear in her eyes all betrayed her true feelings on the fight. She was not the type to throw herself wholeheartedly into combat simply for the sake of it.

    But the resolute way she stood before him, the way she brandished the claw-like nails sharpening on her hands, and the overwhelming determination in her gaze marked her resolve. She was not fighting for the sake of it. Nor did she hate him. She simply had to win for reasons beyond Volcanica¡¯s grasp.

    ¡°Surely there is something thee desires,¡± Volcanica¡¯s voice rumbled. ¡°A reason to fight so hard to challenge Mineself. Speak thy mind.¡±

    She responded with blades of wind, aimed for his still-healing wings.

    Mana surged from him, breaking the spells, and exerting pressure down on the wayward Oni, but she fled the area of his control before he could force her to the ground.

    ¡°Is it thy horn? The blood of dragons can heal many injuries and illnesses,¡± Volcanica continued, whipping his tail around and carving a groove into the earth, throwing up dirt and dust. ¡°There is no doubt mine could return it to thee.¡±

    ¡°Ram needs no horn!¡± she hissed, as she threw herself out of the way of his tail, and shaped mana into a new form, an arrow of wind that tore through the aura of mana he was emitting.

    He twisted space around it, and it flew off into the distance, exploding when it made contact with the ground.

    ¡°An illness, mayhaps?¡± Volcanica surmised. ¡°Thy sister, or perhaps thy master.¡±

    Once upon a time, he would have offered to heal them himself, but he didn¡¯t know if he could anymore. If he made a contract like that, would he be able to fulfil it? Would he remember to?

    ¡°There is no illness!¡± Ram shouted back at him, shaping and firing a new spell. This one was a set of five projectiles, each taking a different path through the air to reach him. They were tearing through his aura, but they were far weaker than the other blasts she had let out.

    He ignored them, and they impacted his scales.

    But to his surprise, he didn¡¯t feel them dissipate on contact, rather, they were able to land on his body directly and scratch the surface of his scales.

    ¡°That troubles Mineself. For what reason then are thou here, fighting with such determination?¡±

    Ram did not answer, instead throwing another flurry of magic at his undamaged wings on his right side.

    He flicked out mana to distort space, sending the spell flying, but it swirled and switched directions as soon as it left his aura, homing back in on his wings.

    He had to wrap his tail in mana and bat it apart in order to counter it.

    This was getting to be a troublesome fight. He would have preferred to simply fly away, but his wings were still healing, and they were taking quite a while, considering all the mana he was diverting to his aura.

    Then perhaps he should take it a bit more seriously. If she wouldn¡¯t tell him why she needed to fight him, or why she needed to defeat him, he couldn¡¯t help her. He¡¯d try and subdue her quickly, then get back to what he was doing.

    ¡­what had he been doing?

    Ram took advantage of his momentary confusion to cast another spell, sending dozens of wind blades careening around him, attacking him from all angles.

    His body surged with mana, and he let out a shockwave that blasted all the spells apart, then rippled outwards in an expanding dome, leaving no space for the Oni to dodge.

    She was thrown backward, and though she tried to stabilise herself with her Wind, she still hit the ground hard, and rolled a fair distance before she stopped.

    Volcanica lifted his head to the heavens, drawing himself up to his full height, and roared.

    His aura, which had fully suffused itself into his surroundings, made contact with the barrier he had placed over Lugunica all those centuries ago. He twisted it, establishing a new section over the entire region, and spun a new barrier together from strands of mana.

    The air crackled as he brought it into being, mana rushing down towards him, sealing the tears in his wings.

    ¡°No!¡±

    He heard the Oni¡¯s shout, confirming that she was alive. That was well. Farsale would be upset if he had killed one of his citizens. Volcanica would have to ask him to see what she wanted.

    ¡°Is that truly you? Disbelief.¡±

    A familiar voice, so very familiar, echoed in the great dragon¡¯s mind. It was like a ghost from the past.

    But it wasn¡¯t an illusion of his failing mind. He detected a presence within his barrier, a gate within range of his own.

    And most of all, he smelled it. The miasma of a Witch Factor.

    That alone was almost enough for him to breathe his fire down on the speaker, but before he could, the particulars of the scent drifted through his mind.

    This wasn¡¯t Envy. Nor was it another of the Seven. And it was a man¡¯s voice anyway, this couldn¡¯t be one the Witches that he had been so cautious of.

    He peered down, and he saw a young man with blue hair and a monocle, looking up at him with pity in his eyes.

    ¡°To have fallen so far, to have a soul so corroded¡­ Sorrowful.¡±

    ¡°Thou¡­¡± Volcancia breathed, the fog rippling in his mind as he saw someone he hadn¡¯t in centuries. They had not known each other well, but Volcanica was certain they had met in the past.  ¡°Thou art¡­?¡±

    ¡°A fellow believer in a world beyond us,¡± the man said. ¡°A steward of the end of the age, as you were. Camaraderie.¡±

    ¡°That factor¡­ thou art Melancholy,¡± Volcanica finally remembered. ¡°The Warlock, Hector.¡±

    His mouth opened, and his breath began to light up.

    ¡°Loss of thought and memories, the death of the mind. Regret,¡± the man said. ¡°I was wrong, you cannot survive until the final moments. Under a life of hundreds of years, your soul has cracked. Your mission, your final trial¡­ I will steward it. Promise.¡±

    Volcanica breathed out, and the light erased the ground where the man had been standing.

    But he had moved. He had already been moving when Volcanica opened his mouth.

    ¡°What are you doing!?¡± the Oni cried out.

    He was standing by her side now, looking up at him with deep sadness.

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be looking after Rem! She can¡¯t defend herself!¡±

    ¡°She is safe,¡± the man insisted. ¡°You are not. Prioritisation.¡±

    ¡°I can do this myself!¡±

    ¡°Possibly. However, Lord Roswaal insisted I accompany you, that I might see this for myself. Foresight.¡±

    He touched a hand to his monocle. ¡°He wanted you to have aid, just in case. Compassion.¡±

    Ram hissed, then looked up at Volcanica, desperate fury in her eyes. Fear for her sister, who she believed was at risk, and for her mission, which she wasn¡¯t sure she could accomplish alone.

    ¡°That it would come to this¡­ Melancholy.¡±

    Without warning, an invisible force impacted Volcanica¡¯s wings, right on a section that had just healed, reopening the wound and expanding the tear on the membrane.

    Volcanica let out a low rumble, the draconic equivalent of a growl, and reached out with his mana.

    Ram shot forward at his temporary distraction, closing the distance between them, launching more attacks from further inside his aura. She was holding nothing back now, and seemed to have figured out exactly how to get past the defensive magic of his scales.

    Her blades of wind drew lines across his skin, cracking his scales, causing the first real injuries Volcanica had felt in centuries.

    He roared, and whipped his wings out, blasting another shockwave in all directions, but this time the Oni was able to create a makeshift shield of wind to blunt the worst of the attack.

    He whipped his tail out at her, causing her to swerve and get out of the way, and then launched herself at it, sinking her claws past his scales and into his flesh.

    He flicked his tail to dislodge her, and drops of his blood went with her.

    It had been so long since he had bled. He had almost forgotten he could.

    He glanced back at the man. He was holding a staff now, made of a black metal. It felt vaguely magical, but it didn¡¯t seem like a metia.

    A dart of wind hit his chest, and he turned his attention back to the Oni.

    At some point during her flight, her tiara had been dislodged, but that did not seem to affect the amount of mana she was drawing through her connection with her sister in the slightest. She had already figured out how to maintain the connection without external aid.

    She was trying to get close to him, he could see. She was better at close range, where she might be able to get through to his flesh without wasting so much mana modifying her spells so they could get past his defences.

    He took a few steps back, lashing out with his tail again, waving his hand and calling on some simpler magics.

    The field around them erupted into flames, and Ram had to quickly stop moving and create a shield of wind around her to prevent herself from being burnt.

    Volcanica opened his mouth once more, and then¡ª

    Pain.

    Something had hit him in his chest. Something that had pierced every defence he had, and broken through to his flesh. Not since Envy had he felt such pain.

    He roared and whipped his head around, blasting everything, the white light of his dragonfire vaporising the landscape.

    But both enemies were still alive. He could feel their gates interacting with his aura.

    He looked down, trying to see what damage he had sustained, to see where he had been hit.

    It was easy to spot. There was a bar of metal sticking out of his chest, right out of the gap in his scales, the old wound that he had never been able to heal. His ¡®reverse scale¡¯ as Flugel had deemed it.

    There was some kind of magic woven into it, and not one Volcanica recognized. There was a touch of dragonic work in it, but the basis was different.

    It was dulling his pain, already the sharp agony of it sticking into his flesh had faded to a dull ache.

    He grabbed it between his claws and pulled it out, flicking it away and sending mana into the wound to heal it. But the magic of the iron had sunk its teeth into him, and was now running amok in his flesh. Subduing and removing it would be a simple matter, except for¡­

    ¡°Al Fura!¡±

    He lifted his arm and created a shield of mana to break the Oni¡¯s spell before it reached him.

    He couldn¡¯t afford to take his attention away from the Oni. She already knew how to get past his scales. She would injure him if he took his attention off her for too long.

    The fact that the warlock had injured him was unimportant. He no longer had the magic in the staff that allowed it to get through his aura, he was no longer the major threat. The impacts that regularly hit his wings were annoying, but would be easily dealt with once he had subdued the Oni. He couldn¡¯t let the fog drag his attention away.

    ¡°El Fura! El Fura!¡±

    Many blades of wind flew out at him, and though he blocked most with shields, some were able to make it through, and his scales cracked open, the spells cutting into flesh, drawing trails of blood through the air.

    It didn¡¯t hurt as much as he was expecting. He had known his reverse scale was more sensitive than normal, but he hadn¡¯t realised it was to such an extent.

    Still, it did hurt, and he still could not fly away. There was no helping it. He¡¯d have to end the fight himself. Even if he couldn¡¯t quite remember why they were fighting in the first place.

    ¡°Al¡ª¡±

    The girl began to speak another spell, but Volcanica was no longer simply waiting for her attacks. He couldn¡¯t seem to land a hit on her with his breath, but dragons had more than one weapon at their disposal.

    He took a single step towards her, closing the distance like it was nothing, and one clawed hand swept down.

    The girl jumped backward, getting out of the way right before his hand ripped into the ground, sending a massive clump of earth flying to his side.

    Before she could stabilise herself, Volcanica reached out to the space around her, intending to use it to crush her.

    She was able to sense his intentions, likely due to the mana he had to position around her. She reworked the spell she had already half-casted, lifted her hand to the side, and¡­

    ¡°¡ªFura!¡±

    She blasted herself clear of the area of effect, right before the ground rippled and shredded itself into fine dust.

    She had been using a cutting spell, so it was unavoidable that she would suffer a few injuries from her method of evasion, but Volcanica was surprised at how little blood flew from her form as she tumbled through the air.

    She had shredded the sleeves on her left arm, revealing shallow cuts in her flesh, but it seemed the girl had managed to contain the damage to just that.

    His tail shot out towards her, the barb-like tip aiming to skewer her, not giving her a moment to breathe, to draw upon her connection to her sister and fully recover her mana.

    The girl twisted in mid-air to avoid his strike, then lashed out with a clawed hand to grab his tail. She scrambled to get a foothold, then kicked off, aiming to get right up close to his midsection, still low to the ground in the aftermath of his sweeping attack.

    Volcanica brought his hand up, and backhanded her out of the air, landing a direct hit on her for the first time.

    It was only a glancing blow, but the girl was sent flying from the power of it, her body twisting and writhing through the air as she fell.

    She hit the ground, but wasn¡¯t able to roll to her feet instantly. Her limbs spasmed as she tried to move, but the few seconds that would take would prove too much.

    Volcanica opened his mouth, and his breath began to light.

    Her eyes met his, and the crimson orbs blazed. He saw as she realised she couldn¡¯t get herself into a position to get out of the way. Even if she blasted herself clear again, she would not be able to dodge Volcanica¡¯s next attack.

    She still gathered her mana, ready to fight to the very end.

    He breathed in¡­ and caught the smell of a Witch Factor.

    The smell pierced through the fog temporarily, blending with the sight of the pink-haired girl in front of him, and suddenly, he was in another battle, from the distant past.

    Sekhmet! Mine breath won¡¯t manage to get past her authority!

    He cut his breath off, and unfurled his wings to their maximum, cycling mana through his body to lighten it.

    The Great Waterfall. That was the plan. Why doth I stand so far from it? She ambushed me¡­ she must have known.

    His wings beat down, and his feet lifted off the ground. However, he didn¡¯t gain altitude rapidly like he usually did.

    She¡¯s using her authority to hold Mineself here? She¡¯s grown stronger. Mineself was right. She must be stopped now.

    His spacial rend wasn¡¯t going to be particularly effective against the Witch of Sloth, but it would force her to split her attention between offence and defence, and she was far too lazy to do both.

    He reached out with his mind, but¡­

    Why is she gathering mana?

    ¡°Al Fura!¡±

    A blade of wind shot out from the girl, unhindered by aura or shields, and tore through his side.

    Volcanica roared in pain, but not a second after the wound had been dealt, the fog descended upon it, banishing the pain from his thoughts.

    He checked over his body in confusion, and found something. There was a magic in his body, one that was dulling his sense of pain. It was working with the fog, and the fog was working with it.

    This must be¡­ Echidna! They¡¯re working together!

    That must have been where the wind magic came from. But¡­ hadn¡¯t he seen Sekhemt cast it? Or had that been the fog, playing tricks on his memory?

    ¡°His soul fades further. Pity.¡±

    The voice was sorrowful, carrying the weight of hundreds of years. Something hit his wings, and he was on the ground again.

    Sekhmet had stood up. She almost never did that when she could get away with remaining on the ground. Had she cut her hair? Typhon must have wanted to see her in a new style. But¡­ was she shorter? Volcanica sometimes found it difficult to judge the heights of the smaller folk, but Sekhmet looked a fair bit smaller than usual.

    ¡°Al Fura!¡± she shouted, and another deep gash appeared on his chest, intersecting with his reverse scale.

    He roared, and lashed out with a wave of unformed mana.

    Sekhmet blasted through it with a sustained burst of wind, then gathered herself for another attack.

    When had she learned wind magic? Volcanica had never known her to spend such effort on something.

    A niggling doubt appeared around the corners of his mind, through the faintest areas of the fog.

    Was this really Sekhmet?

    The girl launched herself at him, extending clawed hands coated with wind magic, aiming for his neck.

    If she¡¯s not Sekhmet¡­ who is she? And why doth we fight? Farsale said it wasn¡¯t good to fight.

    He flicked his tail up to divert her, but she lashed out with a hand and sliced the tip off. Volcanica felt no pain from it. Why didn¡¯t he feel pain? Wasn¡¯t he wounded?

    Why art Mineself so far from the Watchtower? Why doth Mineself stand here? Farsale¡­ where art thee?

    A pink blur shot past his head, and the fog grew teeth.

    It bit into his neck, and Volcanica felt himself stumble, falling to the side. He tried to steady himself with his hand, yet even with the additional support, he was unable to support his weight.

    ¡°To die fighting, the dragon¡¯s way¡­ honourable, from a certain point of view.¡±

    A voice said to him. One that was so familiar, yet so distant.

    ¡°Farsale?¡± The dragon asked. ¡°Where art thee? Mineself can¡¯t see thee. Where hath Flugel gone? Why isn¡¯t Reid here? Hoshin? Satella?¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, our fellows have passed on, or been reduced to a mockery of themselves. It is just us two left. Or perhaps just me. Alone.¡±

    Volcanica¡¯s vision sharpened for a moment, and he saw a blue-haired man, standing by his head.

    ¡°...Clind?¡± he asked, the fog beginning to lighten in his final moments.

    ¡°Yes. Worry not, Volcanica. Everything will be cared for in your absence. You may rest. Peace.¡±

    The dragon¡¯s eyes shuddered. He wanted to ask more, to find out what had happened. Was the boy here? Was Satella safe? Had the plan succeeded?

    But he lacked the strength to ask any of them.

    His eyes slowly drifted closed.

    And they never opened again.

 Dinner is Served

    ¡°Thank you for gathering at such short notice,¡± Fourier said with a practised smile, allowing the light blue glow from the Sceptre to subtly intensify. He was thankful that the Sceptre still worked at all as its light helped conceal his still tarnished armour, but he supposed that it had been bound to him ever since Julius had severed the greater connection at the temple.

    He¡¯d never been the one to care most for appearances, but even he had to admit he¡¯d never expected the day to come where he was addressing the full council in ash-covered armour.

    ¡°There is urgent new information that we just received recently that will undoubtedly shake our beloved Kingdom,¡± Fourier said slowly, sweeping his eyes across the room only to linger on Miklotov before continuing.

    ¡°The Divine Dragon Volcanica, our protector and hero, is now dead.¡±

    He stood still, watching as his audience slowly took in his words, seeing the flashes of realisation as they finally understood him, and hearing the clattering of chairs as several jumped to their feet.

    ¡°What? What did you just say?¡± one asked, his face warring between an expression of anger and fear. ¡°If this is some kind of joke or test, know that it is in very bad taste! The Divine Dragon¡­ Volcanica would not simply die!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right! Your Majesty, please explain what you mean.¡±

    Fourier remained silent, letting his council voice their thoughts. They did so, all speaking out of turn, and murmuring to the others by their sides.

    Only Miklotov remained silent, watching Fourier with a stone-cold expression. He lifted a hand for silence, and the others gradually calmed down, getting back into their chairs.

    ¡°I know you, Your Majesty. You would never bring a claim such as this to us without damning evidence,¡± Miklotov stated, his speech level and even. To an untrained eye, it might appear that he was unperturbed, but Fourier knew the old man. He was strictly controlling his tone and enunciation to ensure he did not betray his inner feelings.

    He hesitated a moment, then powered on, ¡°May we also see it?¡±

    Fourier nodded. ¡°Of course.¡±

    He picked up the mirror and passed it to the nearest council member, who took it in both hands. He was trembling, Fourier noted.

    ¡°I provide the council with live evidence provided by a conversing mirror located in the Lifaus Plains,¡± he said, turning back to the other members of the council. ¡°It is currently the only one present, and for security reasons, I have prohibited connecting any new mirrors to it. Please be patient and wait for your turn to witness it for yourself.¡±

    Some of the councillors didn¡¯t seem happy about that, but most nodded amicably. No one would want to be rushed when trying to examine the evidence Fourier was submitting.

    The councillor with the mirror wasn¡¯t even paying attention to Fourier anymore. He was looking at the open mirror, his face slowly going pale, his expression aghast.

    The mirror on the other side had been positioned in such a way to easily display the Divine Dragon corpse, and while much of the body had been desecrated, any who had ever seen a painting of Volcanica would recognize his face.

    The councillor only looked at it for a moment before hurriedly passing it on to the person beside him.

    ¡°We are still putting together a timeline of when Volcanica died, but I suspect this is why the ritual to contact him failed,¡± Fourier stated, studying the ashen faces of the ones the mirror reached, feeling sick to his stomach with horror¡­ and the smallest trace of jealousy.

    He knew that it was irrational, his family had been on the decline for months before they passed, and so many of them had time to mentally prepare themselves. He hadn¡¯t even seen his council when the news first broke either, so it was entirely possible that they had been making the same expressions when they learned of his family¡¯s sickness, and as they slowly realised that they were all going to die.

    Yet he knew in his gut that to these council members, it was Volcancia who was truly important, not the royal family.

    He shook his head.

    Was he honestly any different? He¡¯d considered the idea that Volcancia might fail to support Lugunica if he¡¯d died before; it had been one of the things that haunted him while he had been laying on his deathbed. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that he would outlive his Kingdom¡¯s god.

    It seemed that even he had fallen for the idea that the Divine Dragon was immortal.

    ¡°What shall we do now? Is Lugunica doomed?¡± a pale-faced counsellor asked, looking at the mirror as if it had foretold their country''s doom.

    ¡°Are you daft!? This is clearly a trick of some sort, to make up for the Divine Dragon¡¯s lack of support!¡± another member snapped, blood dripping from his clenched fist. He hadn¡¯t seen the scene in the mirror yet. Was it just his fear talking?

    ¡°Think about which of us is really in denial,¡± a third member interjected. ¡°I have checked the mirror myself, and it is genuinely connected to somewhere on the Lifaus plains. It is not displaying something that does not exist.¡±

    ¡°You say that as if our Divine Dragon dying is a more realistic assumption,¡± snapped another. ¡°The so-called impossible has been accomplished before, and deceiving our senses is anything but impossible. Perhaps there is a mage standing in the middle of nowhere showing us an illusion, or a team of Earth mages built a model out of dirt! There are any number of possibilities to consider before believing this¡­ this farce!¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t just the mirror,¡± Fourier interrupted the bickering, keeping his voice calm, but cold. Normally he¡¯d allow his council members to debate, and only join in when it was over to make a decision. That was the general advice Miklotov had given him. It was supposed to show that he was above being pulled into speculation, but in this case¡­ appearing aloof would be the worst possible impression he could give.

    ¡°We have several more reports from the scouts near the plains, which is why a mirror was dispatched to the location as soon as I received a report,¡± Fourier stated, sliding the reports over for any of the more sceptical members to examine.

    Those reports contained notices the capital had received from villages and towns all over the Lifaus plains. All contained the same details, that they had seen a shining light in the sky, and were preparing to investigate. Needless to say, Fourier had ordered all those investigations cancelled.

    Several of the councillors immediately started pouring over the reports, but some looked as if the additional evidence was only causing them to panic further, as disbelief looked like it would turn into anger.

    ¡°May I ask what you intend to do next, Your Majesty?¡± Miklotov inquired, not bothering to even glance at the reports.

    ¡°I am deciding on if I should disclose this information to the public immediately,¡± Fourier said. ¡°It should help us manage this disturbance, perhaps even stop the riots entirely, and should we try to hide it, I do believe we will fail. Too many already know something is there, and we cannot hope to hide his body secretly before they begin to investigate. Our refusal to confirm the matter would only buy a few days.¡±

    ¡°Extra days could mean a lot when it comes to organising our defences,¡± Miklotov said, stroking his beard in thought. ¡°In addition, consider the disbelief in this very room, Your Majesty. We have the easiest ways of confirming the manner, from our reports to the Mirror, yet despite that, I see several members of this esteemed council still harbour doubts.¡±

    ¡°Defences?¡± Fourier asked, his mind catching on the first part of his most trusted advisor¡¯s words. ¡°You are referring to Vollachia, then?¡±

    He felt a cold sweat run down his back. He hadn¡¯t considered it, but the warlike empire to the south definitely wouldn¡¯t take long to capitalise on Lugunica¡¯s weakness.

    ¡°Are you saying that if we don¡¯t confirm his death ourselves, Vollachia will refrain from attacking?¡± Fourier said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°But if I recall correctly, their ruler holds all the decision-making power. Wouldn¡¯t only their Emperor Vincent need to be convinced there is an opportunity for them to take action?¡±

    ¡°One could say the same about this kingdom, or any other monarchy, Your Majesty,¡± Miklotov replied. ¡°Admittedly, Vollachia has historically given far more sway to its Emperor¡¯s whims than Lugunica has its rulers. But even in Vollachia, I doubt that a young emperor would be able to gather the support needed to swiftly prepare an attack. With such shocking, frankly unbelievable, news, I wouldn¡¯t doubt that there would be resistance in his own court.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think the odds are high that Vincent would send some of his Divine Generals to attack, even if he couldn¡¯t get the bulk of the army?¡± Fourier asked, furrowing his brows. ¡°I dislike assuming the worst of my fellow ruler, but if he attacks, then it is likely that multiple towns could be destroyed before we could respond, now that we are lacking Volcanica¡¯s barrier.¡±

    ¡°It is unlikely that multiple of the Divine Generals would be sent out,¡± Miklotov said, raising a hand to stroke his beard as he thought. ¡°Their primary purpose is to control their army after all, and it would be a disaster to lose multiple. I could foresee the possibility of sending a raiding force to destroy a village if they needed to force both sides to commit to a war. But there is little we can do to truly stop such an action.¡±

    Fourier rubbed his temples, but couldn¡¯t disagree. He¡¯d need to dedicate magnitudes of resources and manpower to protect the kingdom from such an attack, whereas Vincent could decide on a target randomly. If he only wanted to provoke Lugunica into a war, there were dozens of small villages near the border that would make suitable targets, after all.

    ¡°It may also be wise to consider what message we¡¯d send Vollachia if we released such vital information over a relatively small uprising. It would highlight the value we place on our citizens'' well-being over national security,¡± Miklotov said, eyes crinkling, his mouth pursed slightly, as if he found the words he was uttering distasteful. But he uttered them regardless, because as the sage council, they had to consider every side of their decisions.

    ¡°Which isn¡¯t the sort of message we¡¯d want to send right before a potential war,¡± Fourier finished, unable to stop his own scowl from forming. ¡°Still, you could say the same thing about a potential message to our own citizens. Are we telling them that we¡¯ll lie and hide information that could save lives now, all to potentially stop a war that may not even form to begin with?¡±

    For several seconds, the council watched in silence as the king and their most senior member locked eyes with each other, the blue light flickering like a heart-beat, steadily becoming more intense.

    ¡°There has not been a full blown war with Vollachia for hundreds of years now. I am well aware of the fact that it was Volcanica who put an end to our cycle of periodic wars. If not for the Witch¡¯s Cult¡¯s interference, they would not have even been able to bypass Vollachia¡¯s barrier thirty eight years ago for the Sin Archbishop of Pride¡¯s invasion.¡±

    Fourier felt something rising in his chest as he spoke, a stubborn pride, a belief in his country.

    ¡°The possibility exists that with our Divine Dragon dead, our cycle of war will restart once more, but I refuse to believe that it¡¯s inevitable, and to sacrifice our citizens'' lives to gain an advantage for this theoretical war is something I refuse to condone.¡±

    His people were strong. His people could endure. Volcanica had protected them for four hundred years, but they had endured for thousands before that.

    ¡°I would be perpetuating something I hate as well, better for Vollachia to think that we are fools who value our citizens then cold blooded tacticians that will sacrifice what we love most for a momentary advantage. With neighbours such as those, why would Vollachia not prepare for war?¡±

    Lugunica had fought Volcanica many times in the past, and they had been bloodied by those battles, but they had just as often bloodied the Empire¡¯s nose. Their border had rarely drifted beyond Picoutatte, and when it had, Lugunica had always been able to push it back south.

    ¡°I do not believe that just because in the past that our people hated one another, that we cannot one day become allies, friends even. Because Ferris is one of my closest friends despite his demi-human heritage, I will choose to believe that we can do the same with our hated enemy one day in the future.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve made your decision then,¡± Miklotov noted, as the sage council¡¯s murmuring slowly started to fill the chambers once more.

    ¡°I have,¡± Fourier confirmed. ¡°I¡¯ll have an announcement made and spread it throughout the capital. I won¡¯t push for it to go beyond the capital just yet though, as it¡¯s the only area suffering from these riots. If those near the border still believe Volcanica is alive it may still help us delay the issue by a few days.¡±

    ¡°A thoughtful compromise, Your Majesty,¡± Miklotov conceded gracefully, and although several exchanged looks of discontent, no council member raised an objection.

    ¡°In which case, we¡¯ll need to address, where we will be primarily broadcasting from, the proof that we¡¯ll share, and how to deal with the aftermath of this civil unrest.¡± Fourier said, preparing himself for what was sure to be a long meeting. He could only hope that Crusch was getting more rest then him.

    <hr>

    Crusch dashed through the chaotic streets, controlling her breathing as her eyes carefully tracked the way ahead. Swinging her sword in a broad arc, she blunted the wind she released, throwing several of the rioters off their feet. Many choose wisely, staying on the ground, but those who stood soon regretted it.

    Behind her she could hear the rapid breaths being released by Ferris and Lord Edgar who had only been able to keep up the rapid sprint due to Ferris¡¯s water magic continually refreshing the both of them. She felt a moment of pride in her friend, who¡¯d grown so talented that even disoriented, he could easily maintain the healing of not only himself, but another as well.

    They were heading straight towards the palace to give their report, and use the Conversation Mirrors to bring the full force of their strongest against the Witch Cultist. Never before had one of the Sin Archbishops of that organisation attacked the capital of a nation, and such an action needed a powerful response brought against it.

    Roswaal and his butler were still there, fighting off the one known as Gluttony. Crusch had known there were other Sin Archbishops besides the infamous duo, Sloth and Greed, but information about any of the others was limited. Why had Gluttony chosen to reveal himself now? Was he a part of the assassination of the royal family, or was he simply taking advantage of the chaos?

    And what had Roswaal known about him? Why had he been so insistent that they not use their real names?

    But Crusch had no time to spend on those thoughts, as rebel after rebel attacked their small group, drawn by their comrade¡¯s screams as Crusch knocked them off their feet.

    Although it grieved her heart, responding to the Witch Cult was now of greater importance than ensuring a quick resolution to the rebellion.

    Her blade swung, and rioters were thrown back, slamming into each other and the walls of the surrounding buildings.

    Thankfully, none of her foes were persistent enough to force her to kill them yet, but she suspected that she¡¯d soon need to bloody her sword with the lives of those she should be partially responsible for.

    She¡¯d noticed that as they grew closer to the capital, the rioters had started becoming more persistent, getting up after she had blasted them down, and some of them even started to use magic to try and fight her.

    Crusch still dealt with them easily¡ªthey were civilians, unused to combat¡ªbut it was still taking more effort, and she was starting to tire.

    ¡°Clear a path!¡± she commanded, blasting out a shockwave of wind from another swing of her sword to accentuate her point. ¡°On my authority as a noble of this kingdom, I order you!¡±

    But the words had little effect. The rioters were already disobeying royal orders, what did it matter to them if they ignored a mere noble?

    She heard a scuffle from behind her, and snapped her head to the side so she could peer back.

    Two of the rioters had approached Ferris and Lord Edgar from behind, and now they lay on the ground, convulsing wildly, Ferris¡¯s arms still outstretched.

    He smiled a little sheepishly at her, and bent down to briefly give them another touch, to alleviate the worst of their symptoms.

    Crusch wasn¡¯t sure exactly what he had done, but she understood the hazards of healing magic used incorrectly. It could be incredibly dangerous, even life-threatening, though considering Ferris was the one who had used it, it was almost assuredly non-lethal.

    ¡°I¡¯ve just put them to sleep for a few hours,¡± Ferris said as the two of them reached her. ¡°I forgot they were still standing though, I usually use that when they¡¯re already lying down. Don¡¯t worry, they¡¯re fine.¡±

    Crusch nodded, continuing to eye the crowd still ahead of them. The rioters had the sense to stay an adequate distance away, but they still didn¡¯t get out of their path. Crusch took a breath, and slowly exhaled.

    She needed to get them to the palace quickly, so that they could alert the knights about Gluttony and get them to help Roswaal. She needed to bring Edgar to Fourier and make sure knowledge of the coming swarm was relayed to their forces.

    And if the rioters kept getting in her way, she was going to have to treat them a little less kindly.

    ¡°Stay close,¡± she said, lifting her sword and pouring her mana into the blade, causing the wind to swirl around it in a vortex.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to be moving quickly.¡±

    Then she jabbed her blade forward, and a hammer of air broke the crowd in two.

    She strode forward, releasing her grip on her sword with one hand, so that she could use her two hands independently. Her sword made circles in the air, and currents of air shoved against the surrounding crowd, a wind wall that tripped them up when they tried to approach.

    A few of the rioters pushed through it, and Crusch raised her hand to them, flicking her fingers and sending out small bursts of wind to impact their temples, causing them to stumble back, and put an end to their attempts to approach them.

    She expended only a minimum of effort to carry out those tasks, and more importantly, a minimum of mana. If she recklessly used too much of it, then she would exhaust herself long before she reached the palace.

    The problem was that while her current method was more efficient, it also slowed their progress through the city to a snail¡¯s pace.

    ¡°Tch,¡± Crusch hissed as one of the rioters, a heavyset man with a large wooden plank, pushed past her wind current and charged at them.

    ¡°For the Dra¡ªoof!¡±

    He was blasted back through the section of the crowd he had come from, sending dozens into a sprawling heap.

    ¡°How are there so many of them?¡± Ferris asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen so many people.¡±

    ¡°There are¡ª hah¡ªa surprising number¡ª hah¡ªof people in a city,¡± Edgar said between huffs of air. The old man was struggling, but their current, slower pace was letting him catch his breath a bit.

    ¡°Most of the time they¡¯re more split up though, in¡ª hah¡ªbuildings or whatnot. It¡¯s only when they¡¯re all on the streets that you get a¡ª hah¡ª glimpse of just how many there are.¡±

    ¡°Once we get to the noble¡¯s district, there¡¯ll be less,¡± Crusch said, glaring at one side of the crowd that seemed to be getting a bit too eager. ¡°We¡¯ll make up for lost time there.¡±

    Then she swung her sword again, and the path in front of them was cleared.

    As they drew closer and closer to the noble district, the crowd finally began to thin, and Crusch was able to set a faster pace, eventually dropping her wind wall and focusing instead on the occasional rioter that still tried to attack them.

    It seemed most had realised trying to fight her would be pointless, and got out of her way while continuing to do what they had been doing.

    She saw several groups of looters and more than a few bands of rioters carrying makeshift weapons. But if they didn¡¯t bother her, then she could not justify stepping in to apprehend them. Securing aid for Roswaal came first.

    A window smashed and Crusch thought she heard a yell, but she hardened her heart and kept moving. All she could do was through a few bolts of wind at the rioters trying to enter the building and knock them out. It wouldn¡¯t be enough, and it was a single drop in the lake compared to all the trouble that was occurring on the streets.

    But it was something, at least.

    <hr>

    Finally, they reached the beginning of the noble¡¯s district. Guards were standing along the road leading up the incline, and a large crowd had gathered. They weren¡¯t trying anything yet, but Crusch didn¡¯t know how long that was going to last.

    The guards waved them through as soon as they saw her, and then they were free.

    ¡°We¡¯ll pick up the pace here,¡± Crusch said, glancing back at the two of her companions. Ferris still appeared to be fine. He was probably using his healing magic to keep himself from tiring too much.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Lord Edgar, on the other hand, was completely winded. Ferris conjured a healing orb to try and alleviate his exhaustion, but there was only so much he could do. Lord Edgar was old, his body wasn¡¯t prepared to move so quickly.

    ¡°...perhaps we can refrain from rushing,¡± Crusch said. ¡°It would serve no purpose if we arrived with you so¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Edgar gasped out. He was bent over, hands on his legs to hold himself as he drew great gulps of air.  ¡°I am¡ª hah¡ª alright. We can¡¯t¡ª can¡¯t stop now. Those youngsters need help. I can¡¯t make them wait.¡±

    ¡°Those youngsters?¡± Ferris asked, still working his healing magic. ¡°Roswaal is old as well, you know.¡±

    Edgar grinned, his mouth twitching as he struggled to maintain it with his gasps for breath. ¡°When you get as old as I am, everyone is a youngster to you.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°And with the way he was moving like that, so fast and spry¡­ he doesn¡¯t deserve to be called elderly!¡±

    He chuckled, then straightened himself up.

    ¡°Alright. I can keep going.¡±

    Crusch met his eyes, and she saw the wind of determination flowing around him, soft and faint, but resolute.

    ¡°As you say,¡± she said, turning to glance up to the palace. It still seemed so far away. ¡°If you need to stop, call out. I don¡¯t want to have to bring your body back.¡±

    Edgar chuckled again. ¡°I daresay I will swallow my pride long before then. Perhaps I can have Sir Felix carry me if my legs grow too weary.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡± Ferris looked at him, taking in his frail figure, and then looked at his arms. He wasn¡¯t the strongest member of the Royal Knights, but¡­

    ¡°Well, I suppose I can try.¡±

    Crusch felt a smile rise on her lips, and she lifted a hand to stifle a laugh.

    Ferris gave her a mock glare.

    ¡°You think I can¡¯t? I¡¯ll prove I can! I¡¯ll carry him all the way to¡ª¡±

    Then Crusch saw a shadow behind him, and her eyes went wide, the smile vanishing in an instant, and she readied her sword to swing.

    Ferris had cut off as soon as he saw her expression change, and he was turning to see what had spooked her.

    But there was no time for that.

    ¡°Ferris! Get down!¡±

    He didn¡¯t even hesitate. Despite still not seeing the threat Crusch had spotted, he lunged at Edgar and brought them both to the ground, clearing the way for Crusch to swing her blade in a wide arc.

    Her ultimate technique shot out, and this time she held nothing back, lashing out with all her fury. The wind was sharp, strong enough to sheer through armour and all manner of defensive spells.

    It shot out like an arrow, crossing the distance to her target in an instant¡­

    And then it broke apart, shattering and unravelling as it came into contact with a single clawed hand. The hand of the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony.

    ¡°Ah?¡± the boy said, tilting his head, then whirling around and lashing out with his claws to finish off the two guards he had attacked.

    He licked his hands, and turned back to Crusch. ¡°You¡¯ve interrupted us¡­ that¡¯s not very nice.¡±

    He started walking towards them, each step graceful and refined, like he was a dancer performing in a play. Or perhaps a swordsman with immaculate footwork.

    ¡°Where is¡ª¡± Crusch started, but cut off as she remembered Roswaal¡¯s warning. ¡°What happened to the ones who were fighting you?¡±

    ¡°Eh~?¡± the Sin Archbishop¡¯s face fell, and he threw his hands out wide. ¡°We couldn¡¯t figure them out. Like eggs with a shell too tough to crack. We wanted to bite and munch and crunch, but it was taking too long. Mama said we had to make sure to follow orders, and that annoying woman wanted us to hurry up. So~ we had to leave them.¡±

    He sighed, deep regret staining the winds that circled him.

    Crusch frowned, eyes flitting over the rest of the guards controlling the crowds at the entrance to the noble¡¯s district. None seemed to have noticed Gluttony¡¯s appearance. They were too busy trying to dissuade the crowd from rioting.

    And even if Crusch could alert them, how much help would they really be?

    ¡°Ferris, take Lord Edgar and run.¡±

    Out of the corner of her eye, Crusch saw Ferris¡¯s head snap around to her.

    ¡°Run!? No, I¡¯ll stay! I can help!¡±

    ¡°We need to get this information back to the palace,¡± Crusch said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I have no intention of falling here.¡±

    ¡°Like you had no intention of falling in the fire?¡± Ferris growled. ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Ferris¡ª¡± Crusch started, the words dying in her throat. How could she argue with him? He was right, she hadn¡¯t thought she would be cornered in the blaze, and he was right to be worried. But he wasn¡¯t a fighter. He could do nothing more than throw himself at Gluttony as a distraction, and Crusch knew he would be willing to do that. Which is why she couldn¡¯t let him stay.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it matters, Lady Crusch,¡± Lord Edgar spoke up. ¡°He caught us easily here, if he defeats you and decides to pursue us, we will absolutely be caught. It¡¯ll be safer if we fight him together.¡±

    Crusch frowned but the decision was made for her.

    ¡°Well~ it doesn¡¯t matter. We¡¯ll try again later, once we finish here!¡±

    Gluttony began walking towards them again, but then he frowned, and reached up to grab something near his ear.

    He brought it in front of his face, a look of annoyance on his face, and his emotions spiking with frustration.

    ¡°Yes, yes, we know, we know,¡± he said, crushing the small black object¡ªa beetle?¡ªand popping it into his mouth.

    He grinned¡ªan awful, predatory smile¡ªand Crusch felt herself tense.

    ¡°She¡¯s so impatient, it¡¯s so annoying,¡± he confided. ¡°We just want to eat, we don¡¯t care about her plans. Ah, but Mama said to listen, so we¡¯ll listen.¡±

    ¡°Fine, you can stay, but stay back,¡± Crusch said, sinking into a defensive stance, preparing her sword and narrowing her eyes. She examined the boy¡¯s emotions intently, determined not to miss a single sign of¡ª now!

    In an instant, Gluttony had crouched down and launched himself at her, his claws reaching out for her throat.

    But Crusch had prepared, and as he approached, she side-stepped, and brought her sword down with a torrent of wind mana.

    Gluttony hissed, then abruptly changed course, his leg slamming into the ground to bring him to a stop, bringing both sets of claws up to block the blade.

    But this was Crusch¡¯s hail mary play, a strike infused with almost all the mana she had left, so much that the sword was trembling at the force contained within it.

    The blade tore straight through the boy¡¯s oversized nails, and then continued onward to cleave into his body.

    The wind mana in the blade exploded, and Gluttony was flung backwards, his body twirling through the air droplets of blood spinning a trail behind him.

    But when he came down, he yanked himself around in midair, and landed the right way up, one hand on the ground, somewhat resembling a cat. He looked up at her with a grin.

    ¡°Well~! We¡¯ve never seen that before!¡±

    He lifted himself off the ground, and straightened out his clothes, threads of magic working their way through the tear Crusch had cut into them and sealing the fabric shut.

    ¡°Ah, we have to admit, this is kind of fun. Maybe brother isn¡¯t so wrong? But he takes soooo long to eat¡­¡±

    He looked thoughtful for a moment, then his face twisted up and he snarled, lashing out with his head, his jaws closing on something near him.

    He chewed and swallowed, then growled. ¡°We know, we know! We don¡¯t need you to keep telling us!¡±

    He turned his gaze back to Crusch, and this time his eyes were burning.

    He didn¡¯t bother to speak. He lunged, and Crusch prepared herself to retaliate. She had severely weakened herself with her last-ditch attack, and she didn¡¯t have much left in her.

    ¡°Crusch!¡± Ferris cried out, lunging forward himself to try and get entangled in the fray.

    ¡°Ferris, don¡¯t!¡± Crusch called, reaching forward to try and stop him, but Ferris was faster, and he got in front of her.

    Gluttony reached them, extending his clawed hand¡­

    Only to be rebuffed at the last second, an invisible force blasting into his side and catapulting him across the street.

    ¡°To risk yourself for the sake of your master. Approval. However, putting your teacher¡¯s investment in you at risk¡­ Inconsiderate.¡±

    From out of nowhere, Roswaal¡¯s blue-haired butler had appeared, one hand adjusting the monocle on his eye.

    ¡°Clind!¡± Ferris blurted out in an equal mixture of surprise and relief.

    The butler frowned at him. ¡°Using my name? Inconsiderate.¡±

    Ferris clapped a hand over his mouth, but it appeared the damage had been done.

    ¡°Clind? Clind! That¡¯s a strange name!¡± Gluttony¡¯s maddened laughter rang out, as he drew himself back up from the ground. ¡°But now we know it, now we¡¯ll hunt you, now we¡¯ll crunch you, now we¡¯ll eat you!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ª¡± Ferris started, but Clind waved him off.

    ¡°No matter. I am still capable of fighting him with less direct methods. Unhindered.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see about that~!¡±

    Gluttony launched himself at Clind, claws extended and bearing his teeth.

    The butler did not tense up or shift his stance in any way, seeming to merely watch as Gluttony drew closer and closer, but Crusch could see the way the wind drifted around him, a slow vortex that conveyed the utmost preparation and foresight.

    As soon as Gluttony entered his reach, the butler struck.

    One leg twisted in place, and the other swung upwards, aiming for the Sin Archbishop¡¯s head.

    Gluttony lifted a hand at the last second, blocking the strike with his upper arm, stumbling from the weight of the blow.

    Clind stepped forward into the boy¡¯s guard, and executed a flurry of jabs. Gluttony blocked two, but had to twist himself widely to the side to avoid the third.

    He lashed out with his open hand, but Clind blocked with a knife-hand, striking Gluttony on the wrist.

    Both combatants retreated, then eyed each other warily.

    ¡°His body is difficult to injure. Durable,¡± Clind commented. He didn¡¯t seem overly worried, but then, neither did Gluttony. The Sin Archbishop¡¯s emotions were a swirling mess of hunger, frustration, and a desire to win.

    ¡­no, not to win.

    Crusch narrowed her eyes as she tried to understand the feelings the wind conveyed.

    Winning was for fights between equals, for the triumph of having defeated a worthy opponent.

    Gluttony only wanted to crush them underfoot, like a child playing with ants. The fact that these ants were able to fight back was annoying him greatly.

    ¡°Ferris, is Lord Edgar still able to run?¡± Crusch asked.

    She heard the faint sound of Ferris¡¯s healing orb behind her, and Edgar¡¯s mumbled insistence that he was fine.

    ¡°Yes, a little,¡± Ferris said. ¡°Ferri wyouldn¡¯t want him to have to go too far though.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll have to do,¡± Crusch said. ¡°You two, run. I¡¯ll help Clind keep Gluttony occupied.¡±

    She heard Ferris¡¯s intake of breath to argue with her, but before he could voice a word of complaint¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I must belay that order. Refusal.¡±

    Clind¡¯s voice was still calm, but there was a trace of exasperation in his emotions.

    ¡°He has already run from myself and ¡®Teacher¡¯. He will not hesitate to do so again, and neither of them will be able to stand up to him.¡±

    Crusch blinked as his words sunk in. She had only been thinking of getting Ferris out of danger. She had assumed Gluttony had managed to defeat Lord Roswaal and his butler, or at least forced them to retreat.

    She only had his actions and the swirl of his emotions to guide her, but she didn¡¯t think Gluttony was someone who would willingly try to get away while he had the opportunity to crush his opponent.

    The fact that he had anyway implied¡­

    ¡°...he¡¯s targeting us.¡±

    Clind nodded. ¡°Or perhaps, one of you three. Certainty.¡±

    Gluttony scowled, and threw himself forward, spinning and jumping, lashing out at Clind¡¯s head with a kick.

    Clind ducked back to avoid it, then blocked Gluttony¡¯s followup claw attack with another knife-hand.

    Gluttony¡¯s face twisted up with frustration as he lashed out again and again, trying to land a strike with his open hands, but every time he drew close, Clind was able to deflect his arm, or shift his body out of the way.

    Finally, Gluttony seemed to have had enough. He sprung back, and then his eyes swivelled towards Ferris and Lord Edgar.

    ¡°Leaper!¡± he cried out, and he was no longer standing

    Suddenly, he was no longer standing facing Clind. Instead, he had appeared right in front of Ferris, his hand lashing out.

    Ferris drew back in alarm, pushing Lord Edgar away with one hand as he tried to get out of reach.

    Crusch started moving, hand reaching out in a vain attempt to stop the Sin Archbishop¡¯s attack. But she and Clind were too far away, there was nothing they could¡ª

    Then, for no reason that Crusch could see, Gluttony twisted in midair, calling off his attack and bracing his body, as if in anticipation of a non-existent blow.

    But the blow was very much real. Something hit Gluttony in the side, and blasted him away from Ferris.

    ¡°For you to attack another party when engaged in combat with me. Rude.¡±

    Clind took a few steps to bring him between Gluttony and Ferris, then took up his combat stance once more.

    ¡°You will not touch them while I am here. Guarantee.¡±

    Gluttony hissed, and launched himself at Clind again, both combatants¡¯ arms lashing out in a dazzling display of martial arts. Occasionally, Gluttony would try to use his ability to shift behind Clind to get the upper hand, but each time he was rebuffed by Clind¡¯s invisible strike.

    Crusch watched them, hand on her sword, ready to launch an attack of her own if Gluttony left himself open, but he was moving too quickly, and Clind was moving so much that if she attacked carelessly, she might hit him.

    What is that attack he¡¯s using? He did it when he first arrived as well.

    Invisible attacks weren¡¯t strange to Crusch. As a wind magic user, she herself knew how to use a handful of them. But the one Clind had used was beyond anything she had ever seen. It was able to attack from directions other than directly from him, and more unusually, it wasn¡¯t even based on Wind magic.

    If it was Wind, it wouldn¡¯t have been invisible to her eyes, blessed as they were by her Divine Protection.

    ¡°What can we do?¡±

    Crusch half-turned her head to bring Ferris into her view while also keeping an eye on the fight.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think there is anything we can do to help,¡± Crusch murmured in reply. ¡°They¡¯re moving too much, and if we get too close we¡¯ll only be in the way. But if we get too far, he won¡¯t be able to protect us effectively.¡±

    She paused.

    ¡°We¡¯ll simply have to put our faith in him, and maintain our current distance if they drift closer to us.¡±

    It burned to have to rely on a strategy like that, but Crusch had fought the Sin Archbishop, and she knew that he was more than capable of brushing past her defences.

    They remained in place, watching the fight progress, moving back at Crusch¡¯s direction, always at least twenty feet away from Gluttony.

    The Sin Archbishop¡¯s face was twisting up with fury, and Crusch could see the raging frustration building around him. His attacks grew more animalistic, using his claws, his feet, and even his teeth to try and deal some injury to the butler.

    But Clind was able to deflect most of them, and those he did not were the kicks, more powerful than Gluttony¡¯s claws, but seemingly less dangerous.

    Crusch wasn¡¯t sure why the butler was being so careful of Gluttony¡¯s hands, but she had not seen him let the Sin Archbishop land even a single strike with them.

    ¡°KHAA!¡± Gluttony raged. ¡°Stop that stop that stop that! Let us eat, we¡¯re hungry, we need to eat them, we need to eat something!¡±

    He shook his head, his neatly combed hair having long since come undone, so it waved wildly.

    ¡°Stop telling us, we know we have to! But we can¡¯t! He won¡¯t let us! What about you!? Why don¡¯t you help us!?¡±

    ¡°Talking to someone who is not present,¡± Clind said, seemingly calm and dignified, not struggling for breath in the slightest. ¡°Ungracious.¡±

    But Crusch could see the winds of weariness surrounding him, giving lie to his apparent ease. The butler made no moves to capitalise on Gluttony¡¯s momentary distraction. The lull in the battle was more valuable to him as a chance to rest.

    Gluttony growled. ¡°That¡¯s not our fault. You shouldn¡¯t have made a mistake like that! It¡¯s your fault!¡±

    For the first time since Crusch had seen the Archbishop, he froze, his eyes going wide and involuntarily taking a step back.

    ¡°No, don¡¯t tell Mama. We¡¯ll do it, we¡¯ll do it!¡±

    His eyes focused on Clind again, then snapped to Crusch and the other two, then went back to Clind, the desperate feral nature reminding her of a cornered animal.

    He hissed, but he didn¡¯t move, seemingly thinking through his options.

    Clind simply stood there, his emotions clearly displaying that he was unconcerned. Gluttony had already shown himself to be unable to get past the butler¡¯s defence, and even with the fact that he was tired, Clind didn¡¯t seem to think that would change.

    Crusch felt Ferris tense beside her, sniffing the air, then it was as if a warm breeze started blowing around him, as her Divine Protection interpreted his relief.

    ¡°He¡¯s here,¡± he whispered, eyes locked onto the crowd at the entrance to the noble¡¯s district.

    Crusch looked over for herself, trying to spot what Ferris had sensed. But she already had a guess on her mind.

    ¡°Teacher is here.¡±

    Lord Roswaal emerged from the crowd, his robe billowing behind him, holding several of what appeared to be shining stars of various colours between his fingers.

    ¡°I apologise for my tardiness,¡± he called out, drawing a hateful look from Gluttony.

    ¡°I had to make a small detour to retrieve some of these,¡± he continued, bringing one hand up, with three of his stars held between his four main fingers.

    ¡°Nasty person, dirty fighter, won¡¯t even give his name! Not as good as the other one anyway, so it doesn¡¯t matter!¡± Gluttony declared.

    ¡°Now, now,¡± Roswaal said, still walking closer. ¡°It¡¯s rude to judge based only on first impressions. I admit you caught me rather off-guard, but I¡¯ll have you know that I am quite skilled in my own areas. Here, catch.¡±

    He tossed one of the stars towards Gluttony, and his words and stance were so lacking in bloodlust and fighting intent, so calm and comforting, that even Gluttony twitched as if to reach out and catch it.

    Then he realised what he was doing and jumped back, out of the way of the shining object.

    And not a moment too soon.

    The star hit the ground, and the world seemed to stand still as the mana in the surroundings went still.

    Then it exploded.

    The earth erupted, the stones of the pavement turning red-hot as flames rose up, a great whirlwind sweeping the fire out in a wide radius.

    The fire raged brightly for a moment, before a burst of blue light created a wave of water and snuffed it out, giving rise to a large column of steam.

    ¡°That was one of my more destructive metias,¡± Roswaal explained, continuing to walk, finally reaching Clind¡¯s side. ¡°An ¡®Elemental Orb¡¯, as I call them. A burst of the four basic elements in a powerful attack.¡±

    He looked at the broken circle in the pavement, still steaming with heat waves filling the air around it.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pity they can only be used once, but¡­¡±

    He lifted his hands, showing off the five he still held.

    ¡°...I still have one or two left. Now then, Sin Archbishop. Shall we continue?¡±

    Gluttony scowled, and shifted back a few paces, eyes flitting wildly between the five of them.

    His frustration was mounting, but now Crusch could see something else in the winds that blew around him. An undercurrent of fear, not of them, but of failing.

    Finally, his eyes settled on Roswaal, and he shifted his stance so he was lower to the ground, preparing to pounce once more.

    Clind shifted forwards to block any attack the Sin Archbishop launched, and Roswaal drew back his hand to throw another orb.

    Gluttony tensed, and then shot out towards them. Roswaal threw his orb, the star-like object flying through the air, aimed for just behind Gluttony to cut off his retreat. But before the Sin Archbishop reached the duo, he disappeared, and Crusch felt a disturbance in the air behind her.

    She whirled, but Clind¡¯s invisible attack had already struck, and she caught a brief glimpse of Gluttony¡¯s pained face as he was launched away from them. But a bare instant later, he was gone, and Crusch felt him appear to their side.

    ¡°Get down!¡± she shouted, correcting her stance so she could block an attack or two if it became necessary. Ferris and Lord Edgar immediately fell to the ground, minimising the area Crusch had to guard and freeing the space around her so she could make wide swings with her sword.

    In that time, Gluttony appeared around them and was knocked back twice more, his face twisting up with pain, his rage blowing around him like a tornado, a calm, ice-cold fear at the centre.

    Clind was stuck in place, seemingly standing still, but from the winds of determination around him, Crusch could tell he was concentrating intently on keeping up his barrage to protect them.

    Roswaal, on the other hand, was under no such restrictions, and ran towards them. It took bare seconds for him to reach Crusch¡¯s side, and lash out with his fist.

    Gluttony disappeared before the blow could land, but his retreat cost him space, forcing him to remain a greater distance away from them.

    His clothes were ripped and fraying, his hair was scattered into a wild mess, and Crusch could see bruising on his exposed skin. He was breathing heavily, having been worn down from the long fight.

    But his fear remained, driving him forward. He would not retreat.

    He once again launched himself at her, his desperation burning in his eyes, and Crusch interposed her sword between them, but he was no longer there.

    She heard Roswaal lash out behind her, then Gluttony reappeared in her field of vision, just above Lord Edgar.

    She saw a minor disturbance in the air as Clind¡¯s invisible attack struck out at his midsection¡­

    ¡­and Gluttony lashed out with his open hand.

    ¡°Palm of the Fist King!¡±

    His hand met the invisible attack, and the air exploded. A shockwave blew into her, forcing her back a step to keep her balance, and she caught sight of Roswaal stumbling as well. Clind clutched at his chest, as if suddenly injured by the backlash.

    Gluttony had been unaffected. He had not been blown back, and was still in the air, right above Lord Edgar.

    ¡°No!¡± Roswaal cried out, throwing something¡ªa dart?¡ªtowards Gluttony, but it was too late.

    The Sin Archbishop¡¯s hand swung down, his fingers brushing against Edgar¡¯s cloak as the man tried to scramble away.

    Then he was gone.

    ¡°Edgar Mueller!¡±

    Crusch heard the cry to her right, and she turned, seeing Gluttony standing on top of the wall for the closest noble estate.

    Then he licked his hand, and¡­ and¡­

    ¡°That¡¯s enough! We can¡¯t finish the mission, but we got the important part done! Mama won¡¯t be angry now!¡±

    He stumbled, losing his footing for a moment, then he was gone.

    Crusch remained tense for a moment, but when Gluttony did not reappear, she slowly began to loosen her grip on her sword.

    ¡°Is¡­ is he gone?¡± Ferris asked, getting back to his feet.

    ¡°I think so,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°He had been worn down quite a bit. If not for ¡®butler¡¯ we would not have been able to manage to do so much.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s odd,¡± Crusch said. ¡°I didn¡¯t think he was going to retreat until he had managed to eliminate myself and Ferris. He seemed more afraid of failure than of perishing here.¡±

    ¡°I do not believe he did fail. Tragedy.¡±

    Clind¡¯s voice called out, and Crusch turned back to the butler.

    He had drawn closer to them, and now stood looking down at¡­ down at¡­

    ¡°Who is that?¡± she asked, looking down at the old man laying on the ground. Ferris saw him and immediately rushed to his side, conjuring a healing orb.

    ¡°I do not know. Nor does anyone present. Mystery,¡± Clind said. ¡°It is the Authority of Gluttony, a foul interference in the world. Distasteful.¡±

    ¡°¡®Authority of¡­?¡± Crusch asked. ¡°Gluttony did this?¡±

    Clind sighed. ¡°It is an ability that allows one to eat the Name and Memories of anyone. If the user is to eat the Memories, then the victim will lose all knowledge of themselves. If the Name is eaten, then all others will lose all knowledge of the victim. Lose both, and the victim will fall into stasis, and never wake up. Erasure.¡±

    ¡°Are¡­ are you saying we knew him?¡± Crusch asked in disbelief, looking at his face again. But not one detail sparked a trace of recognition. As far as she could tell, she had never met him in her life.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t resemble anyone from my family,¡± Roswaal said, fingers tracing his chin, deep in thought, ¡°Nor does he look like anyone else present, so it is unlikely he was a family member. From his dress, he is likely a noble¡­ though he is quite elderly and does not appear to have a body used to fighting. Perhaps he held wisdom we found valuable?¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t anything wrong with him,¡± Ferris said, slowly letting his healing orb fade. ¡°It¡¯s like he¡¯s just sleeping. A very deep sleep.¡±

    He looked up to Roswaal. ¡°Is¡­ is this a curse? Could we break it?¡±

    Roswaal looked to Clind, who shook his head. ¡°A curse imposes a burden, but this ability robs and takes away. He is missing something that must be returned to heal him, and to return it¡­ difficult.¡±

    ¡°So we need to kill Gluttony to heal him?¡± Crusch asked.

    Clind shook his head. ¡°No, it is easier to destroy and rob than to create and return. Without the cooperation of the user, it may be impossible. And for a Sin Archbishop to cooperate¡­ Impossible.¡±

    ¡°Then¡­ what can we do?¡± Ferris asked.

    Clind hesitated, then glanced at Roswaal.

    The Court Mage pursed his lips and nodded. ¡°It may be possible¡­ but not within a lifetime.¡±

    Crusch looked at him in surprise. ¡°Not within a lifetime? He¡¯ll be long dead by then.¡±

    Roswaal shook his head. ¡°He will be in stasis. He will likely outlive many of those alive today, and perhaps many yet to be born. Until the time when a sage comes again, many years from now.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°But that is a discussion for the future. For now, we must return to the palace. We cannot dally any further. Clind, would you carry our forgotten friend for us?¡±

    Clind nodded, and stooped down to pick the old man up.

    Crusch watched him, still searching her memories for some trace of the man, a sense of guilt rising up within her, though she knew it was irrational to feel guilt over being forced to forget something through magical means.

    She turned back to the palace and started walking. Roswaal was right. They couldn¡¯t keep Fourier waiting.

 Brewing Catastrophe

    ¡°A swarm?¡± Fourier asked, his attention focusing on the word.

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Crusch said. ¡°But not as most people would use the word. Among those who study insects, ¡®swarm¡¯ has a different meaning. They¡¯ll have a rapid explosion in numbers, and grow even more aggressive.¡±

    Fourier nodded. ¡°It¡¯s remarkable you were able to tell. How do you know that¡¯s what is happening?¡±

    Crusch frowned.

    ¡°I believe¡­ I read it in a book,¡± she said, but she didn¡¯t sound very sure of herself. ¡°I feel like it was a very long time ago.¡±

    ¡°I can get some specialists to try and verify it,¡± Fourier said, ¡°but insects are a rare field of study. It might take some time for one to get here. In the meantime, we¡¯ll have to prepare as if an attack is iminent. You don¡¯t remember anything about the timeframe?¡±

    Crusch shook her head. ¡°I remember that it could be very soon, but no, I don¡¯t remember anything specific.¡±

    Fourier nodded.

    ¡°In the meantime, I¡¯ve already ordered a city-wide announcement to be made, and I have to update Reinhard¡¯s orders personally,¡± Fourier said with a grimace. ¡°I ordered him to only accept changes to his orders from me or Julius. Unfortunately my knight is busy guarding our flank, in order to prevent any unwanted surprises, so I¡¯ll have to do without him.¡±

    ¡°Are you speaking of the hidden passages I discovered?¡± Crusch asked, her expression conflicted.

    ¡°I am,¡± Fourier confirmed. ¡°There is a good chance that they will be used soon, considering that their planned rebellion has already started. If you''re telling me that their weapon in the swarm will be used soon, then the chances of them using those passages remains high. Best to have one of my most trusted knights handle it, especially if they send a powerful individual.¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty, please allow me to help command the knights and guardsmen to control the rebellion. It may simply be the first step of our enemy''s plan, but the damage it is doing to our civilians is¡­¡± Crusch trailed off remembering the many blackened corpses she¡¯d seen on her way to making the fire break, and remembering her soldier''s sacrifices. Lucius¡¯s ash-covered face came to mind, as he limped away to his final mission.

    ¡°Of course. You''re one of the finest military minds I know, you¡¯d be wasted sitting here playing bodyguard,¡± Fourier said before patting the Sceptre by his side.

    ¡°Besides, it may not be the sword I¡¯m used to, but I¡¯ve found it to be surprisingly effective at fighting my foes recently. I¡¯m still the man who even bested you at swordsmanship after all.¡± Fourier boasted, trying to lift Crusch¡¯s spirits, even as he was all too aware of the gap in skill.

    Nodding Crusch, turned to leave but not before hesitating for a second.

    ¡°Please stay safe, Your Majesty. Ferris and I would be devastated if anything happened to you,¡± Crusch said quietly, not looking directly at him before quickly departing.

    Fourier watched her retreating form for a few seconds, before shaking his head and heading for the mirror that would connect to Reinhard.

    The walk was quiet, as he found himself alone with only his thoughts for company, for the first time in months. It felt unsettling as it always did, but he pushed the feeling aside as he took the time to refine the speech for his capital that he¡¯d need to present soon.

    Picking up the mirror he allowed his mana to leak into the metia and was gratified to see a response in seconds, as his own image disappeared to show the red-haired sword saint sitting in his family manor.

    ¡°I wish I could say that I¡¯m contacting you with good news, Reinhard. Instead, all I¡¯m going to do is ask more of you,¡± Fourier said wearily trying his best to smile at their kingdom''s greatest defence.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± Reinhard said as the red-haired knight¡¯s image performed a sharp bow. ¡°Please do not burden yourself with such concerns. If I can be of service I will of course be happy to help.¡±

    ¡°Well, it falls to me to tell our kingdom that what was long thought impossible has happened. Volcanica is dead,¡± Fourier stated bluntly.

    Reinhard sharply inhaled and reared back as if struck. ¡°You''re certain?¡±

    ¡°I am. I¡¯ll be making a public announcement on the matter soon, in part to help calm the riots and because his body was found in a very public location. There¡¯s no real chance of covering this up for long,¡± Fourier said, not bothering to hide the exhaustion in his tone.

    ¡°More importantly though, is that Vollachia may have a response to finding out that the largest reason why they haven¡¯t invaded us in the last four hundred years is gone.¡±

    Reinhard nodded slowly, furrowing his brows.

    ¡°I take it you mean to remind them that Vollachia was not Lugunica¡¯s only guardian, merely its greatest?¡± he inquired.

    ¡°Correct. Previously, we¡¯ve kept you located at your family manor which is conveniently close to our borders. But it¡¯s time to discard such pretences and remind them of our other cards.¡± Fourier said a rare tone of aggression filling his tone.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be going directly to Picoutatte and staying there. Prevent any Vollachian force from passing. I trust your judgement, so there does not need to be a complete border lockdown, but if you think it¡¯s required, I give you my authority to do so,¡± Fourier finished.

    He hoped that this act of aggression was the right choice to make. He couldn¡¯t afford to be too passive, as that would simply signify that now was the time for Vollachia to attack. But equally, he couldn¡¯t be too aggressive, or it would simply guarantee the war he hoped to avoid.

    He was glad that he¡¯d already limited Reinhard¡¯s communications to him and Julius, as he¡¯d already heard the suggestion that their Sword Saint should be used as an opening strike force and not merely a deterrent.

    He doubted Reinhard would truly listen to such a gruesome order unnecessarily, but even the suggestion from people he trusted as much as the council would shake him. Better for at least one of the two of them to have faith in their governing body at least.

    ¡°I¡¯ll depart at once,¡± Reinhard declared. ¡°I should be able to make it there in a few hours, quicker if I discard discretion all together.¡±

    ¡°A few hours will be more than fast enough,¡± Fourier said, shaking his head. ¡°Your presence will disrupt many of their plans, but while we want your presence to be known to their leadership, we do not want to publicly be flouting the Reinhard laws just yet.¡±

    With one final nod, the mirror went black, before reflecting only Fourier¡¯s own face.

    That was one task dealt with, but it only made the apprehension Fourier felt worse, for now all that remained was addressing his city itself.

    <hr>

    ¡°Form up! Do not engage, and allow them to retreat! We¡¯re not here to make arrests today!¡±

    Crusch¡¯s words echoed over the ranks of her soldiers, all of whom were already standing ramrod straight, gathered into neat and orderly lines as they marched out of the noble district, and into the fray of the discontented common folk.

    Many days of rioting and scuffling with the guards had stripped them of much of their energy, but if Crusch were a betting woman, she would wager a small fortune that the announcement of the Dragon¡¯s demise would reinvigorate them.

    The news had already been shared with her soldiers, and many guard patrols had been reassigned into the upper districts in order to let them process it before they had to go back into the fray.

    Already, something had leaked, an inevitability when sharing a secret with such a large number of people, and rumours had started circulating about an important announcement from the palace.

    Crusch had decided that it was better to be out in force before Fourier made his speech. Too many sections of the city were already too dangerous for the guards to freely move through.

    ¡°Lady Crusch, are we going to fortify the road here?¡± one of her aides asked. ¡°To block their access to the upper districts? Or are we moving further?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll go further,¡± Crusch decided. ¡°The main market square is still clear, isn¡¯t it? We¡¯re not here to defend the upper city, we¡¯re here to keep the chaos under control. We¡¯ll be more effective in that mission if we have plenty of space to treat any who do come for aid. How are the healers?¡±

    The aide nodded and lifted a hand to another soldier. Their division began picking up the pace, not quite shoving the civilians in front out of the way, but not being all that gentle in their march through the city.

    ¡°They¡¯re still in a stupor,¡± he said as he turned back to her, ¡°but most have calmed enough that they¡¯ll be able to tend to wounds.¡±

    The aide paused for a moment.

    ¡°Are we really going to be offering healing to anyone who wants it?¡± he asked. ¡°Even though many of them will be rioters?¡±

    Crusch turned to look at the man. She recognised his face, but she couldn¡¯t recall his name. He was only a new aide, not as well trained as the ones she was used to relying on. Everyone more experienced was busy leading other divisions.

    She nodded. ¡°The Church¡¯s delegations of healers were effective at calming tensions somewhat. Ours may not work as well, considering the existing tensions between us, but every little bit helps.¡±

    She looked up to watch the buildings fall away around them as they reached the market square.

    There were no stalls set up, nor were there any merchants trying to peddle their wares. It was simply an empty clearing in the buildings.

    ¡°Get the tents set up,¡± she ordered. ¡°You can leave my command tent until last. It will be a while before the other divisions are in place.¡±

    Her aide nodded and left her side, going to speak to the commanders of the individual units in the division.

    Crusch reached into a pocket, and pulled out her conversing mirror, flicking it open with a snap of her wrist.

    For a moment, it showed her own face in the reflection, then the reflective surface blurred and grew dark.

    ¡°Division Two,¡± she spoke softly, holding the mirror close to her face. ¡°This is Division One, requesting a status update.¡±

    The sound of rustling came from the mirror, then it suddenly brightened, revealing the face of one of her top subordinates.

    ¡°Division Two, reporting,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ve made good time, and have already begun treating the pensioners. No sign of insects.¡±

    Crusch nodded. ¡°Good. Alert me immediately if anything unexpected happens.¡±

    The soldier nodded. ¡°Will do.¡±

    The mirror darkened, and then brightened to show Crusch¡¯s face again. But she wasn¡¯t finished yet. Not by a long shot.

    She sent a brief pulse of mana through the metia, and it darkened again.

    ¡°Division Three,¡± she said. ¡°This is Division One, requesting a status update.¡±

    <hr>

    The light of a blue orb illuminated the tent, tainting the colour of everything within. Ferris stood still, focusing intently on his magic, weaving strands of mana through the flesh of his patient.

    Once he was finished setting up, he pulled on those strands, and as he watched, the ugly gash started closing together, the flesh and skin melding together as if it had never been injured in the first place.

    He took another moment to make sure all the severed strands of muscles had come together correctly, then once satisfied, he allowed his healing orb to fade away.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, his voice lacking some of his usual energy. ¡°You¡¯re all better. But try not to do anything too strenuous for a few days, okay? You need to rest.¡±

    His patient¡ªa young man, probably just a teenager¡ªnodded slowly, looking at his leg in amazement.

    ¡°Um, right. Thank you, sir knight,¡± he said, getting to his feet and bowing awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to rest.¡±

    The very instant he turned away, Ferris¡¯s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips.

    That patient had claimed he had been pushed to the ground during one of the riots, which had torn open that wound¡­ but Ferris was the best healer in the country. He knew a sword wound when he saw one.

    The man had been one of the rioters. That much was almost certain.

    He let out an almost inaudible sigh, and relaxed his face.

    But Crusch ordered me to heal them anyway.

    He could see the logic behind it, to offer healing in Fourier¡¯s name and detract from the hostility the rioters felt towards him.

    But Ferris couldn¡¯t help but feel that the action was pointless. For every patient he saw that seemed willing to see Fourier in a better light, there were five that had eyes clouded by hate.

    His most recent patient hadn¡¯t been one of those, but Ferris wasn¡¯t taking any chances. He had been making sure to use up as much of his patients¡¯ internal mana as possible. It would leave them lethargic for a few days, but that was fine by Ferris. If they were resting in bed, they couldn¡¯t be out on the streets causing trouble.

    Crusch would probably scold him if she found out. But she wasn¡¯t around right now. She had gone personally to one of the more dangerous areas, and Ferris had been sent to one of the safest.

    He shook his head to clear his thoughts as another patient came in, putting on a practised smile, his eyes flicking over the new arrival.

    She was a woman likely a little older than himself, her left arm held in a sling, and wrapped up in bandages.

    That was her obvious injury, but Ferris also noticed that she walked with an unsteady gait, and seemed to be avoiding moving her left leg too much. At least she was walking under her own power.

    Her right arm was tucked in tightly by her side, indicating she had some kind of pain there as well, though she was trying to hide it by cradling the bandaged arm in the sling.

    But the thing that drew Ferris¡¯s attention the most was her eyes.

    At first he thought he had been imagining something, but as the day had progressed, he had become more and more certain.

    He was able to see something in the eyes of several of the rioters. The worst of them always had bloodshot eyes, and they always seemed to be frowning. Whenever they met his gaze, Ferris felt as if he was looking into the eyes of a maddened predator.

    But he didn¡¯t let any of his unease show as he met this latest one¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°Welcome,¡± he said, gesturing to the stool in front of him. ¡°Please take a seat. I can see your arm is hurt. Can I ask what happened?¡±

    The woman held her silence until she had finished sitting down, before simply saying, ¡°I fell.¡±

    Ferris waited a moment for her to continue, but it didn¡¯t seem she was going to be any more forthcoming about it.

    ¡°I see,¡± he finally said. ¡°Lots of people have fallen recently. Quite a coincidence, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    She didn¡¯t respond, but Ferris hadn¡¯t expected her to.

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    He conjured his healing orb again, and got to work.

    As expected, her arm was broken. It wasn¡¯t a clean break either, one of the bones of her forearm had been shattered, as if it had been struck with a heavy blunt object. Some of the guards had been armed with batons, perhaps she had been a part of a push into a line of them?

    Her other injuries were consistent with that theory, with a blow to her side causing bruising and creating a small fracture in her ribcage, and she had somehow strained her hip, though there were any number of things that could have caused that.

    His examination finished, he reached out for her internal mana, and started weaving it around the shards in her arm.

    Shattered bones were always so time-consuming to heal, but Ferris wasn¡¯t going to take shortcuts. Not even for a rioter.

    She didn¡¯t speak a word as he worked, which was handy for his concentration, but it felt a little odd. Usually his patients wanted to know what was going on, how bad their injury was, whether or not Ferris could fix them.

    But like several other patients Fourier had gotten that day, this patient remained completely silent.

    He sighed, but was careful not to let it show on his face.

    The two of them sat still, with only the soft sound of Ferris¡¯s healing sphere, the murmur of the surrounding camp, and the faint sounds of the city beyond to keep them company.

    His patient did not wince or cry out once, not even as he finished weaving mana through the fragments and began pulling them together.

    From there, the process was relatively simple. He only had to move all the fragments closer together, then start melding the smaller ones together, gradually working his way up to the bigger ones, and then finally meld both halves of the break.

    The hardest part was the puzzle of trying to find out which fragments went where, but even that was easy for someone of his skill. If he couldn¡¯t find a shard that fit exactly, he could just reshape a nearby one and use it instead.

    Within a few minutes of starting, the bone was whole again, and he healed the flesh around it with a small surge of mana.

    His patient still didn¡¯t react.

    Well, he supposed that meant he could afford to move a little faster.

    He split his mana into two strands, one snaking down to her hip and healing the muscles, and another going to her side to take care of the bruising. The fracture in her ribcage required a little more attention, but not all that much. The bone was still in one piece, all he had to do was remove the crack in it.

    Then, after a moment¡¯s thought, he created a third strand, composed entirely of his own mana, and moved it upwards, through her spine and into her head.

    Crusch would punish him severely if she ever found out, so Ferris was going to be sure to be incredibly subtle.

    Foreign mana that healed the head had a peculiar effect on patients. The will of the healer could begin to influence the thoughts and mindset of the patient, making it a very dangerous technique.

    But if Ferris only did it a little bit, no one should notice, and he could influence this rioter into staying out of trouble. It was a win-win situation.

    Provided he didn¡¯t get caught, of course.

    But there was little chance of that. He was the best healer in the county, even if another one checked up on this patient, they were unlikely to examine her head, and even if they did, his touch was light enough that it would be hard to spot the traces of his influence.

    He turned most of his attention back to her side, sending a wave of mana past the ribcage to make sure there was no damage to her internal organs, then once he was satisfied everything was in order, he began the process of withdrawing.

    But as he did so, something made him pause. He felt an unease he could not quite explain, a sense that something was wrong.

    He was only healing a rioter, but Ferris didn¡¯t really feel comfortable with just leaving it, so he spread out another net of mana, doing another examination. But no, all the wounds he had detected were gone, and there were no other hidden ones that he had missed.

    Perhaps he just felt guilty about going against Crusch¡¯s wishes. She hadn¡¯t expressly forbidden him from trying to influence the actions of his patients, but he knew she¡¯d be incredibly disappointed in him.

    He held back a sigh, then retracted the mana from his patient¡¯s head, paying particular attention so he didn¡¯t disturb¡­ anything¡­ as he¡­

    He frowned, as the mana in her head moved. He was retracting his mana fairly easily, but something was wrong. Her own internal mana was fighting his influence. That wasn¡¯t too odd in and of itself, it could sometimes happen with those of great mental strength, but it was strange that it was being so effective.

    It was as if it were being guided by something.

    Ferris drew back a little, suddenly cautious.

    Is she a mage? Did I miss it? And did she notice me?

    He split out a thread of mana, no thicker than a hair, and flicked it toward her gate.

    After a moment, he was certain. He had not missed anything. Her gate was weak, not strong enough to cast any magic, and it didn¡¯t look like it had ever been trained.

    Then how was the mana fighting him?

    With exceptional care, he spun out a series of delicate threads, beginning to poke them through her skull, not inserting them into her brain, just letting him sense her internal mana flow without bone to obstruct him.

    And with that¡­ he still didn¡¯t sense anything.

    He frowned, and tilted his head, trying to make sense of it. He had expected to find something, perhaps some shoddy work left behind by another healer who had worked on her head previously, or some kind of mild injury disturbing the flow of mana in her head.

    But nothing?

    This had gone far beyond merely odd.

    ¡°Is something the matter, sir knight?¡±

    Ferris blinked, his healing orb dissipating and his eyes suddenly refocusing as he became aware of his vision again. He had blocked it out while concentrating on her internal mana flow.

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel any pain,¡± she continued. ¡°Is there still a need for me to be here?¡±

    He could hear the distaste in her tone, though fortunately she wasn¡¯t straying into the territory of outright rudeness yet.

    Ferris hesitated. On the one hand, he had healed everything he could find, so it would be fine to let her go¡­

    But on the other, he couldn''t just let his curiosity go unsatisfied.

    ¡°Yes, there is,¡± Ferris responded. ¡°I¡¯ve mostly fixed you up, but there¡¯s still some work to take care of. In fact¡­¡±

    His eyes trailed to the cot in the corner. The soldiers had set it up in case he needed it, but Ferris hadn¡¯t been bothering to use it. It was faster to just heal the patients sitting down.

    ¡°You¡¯d better lie down, the remaining work could get complex.¡±

    The woman looked doubtful, but she still moved over to the narrow bed at his insistence.

    Ferris shifted his stool over to her side.

    ¡°Have you seen any other healers recently?¡± he asked as she shifted into a comfortable position. While it didn¡¯t seem likely that what he sensed was due to another healer having messed up, it currently was his best theory, so he might as well check.

    ¡°Other¡­? Yes, I have,¡± she responded, somewhat caught off guard by the question. ¡°I visited one of the church¡¯s healing delegations. Why?¡±

    Ferris frowned. ¡°One of the church¡¯s?¡±

    Perhaps they were sending out undertrained apprentices? That could be troublesome if many of them did a bad job.

    ¡°Where did they heal you?¡± he asked. ¡°What injuries did you have?¡±

    ¡°...a sickness. I don¡¯t know what kind. I believe she called it earth ague.¡±

    Ferris nodded, resummoning his healing orb and sweeping his mana through her body to check for any lingering effects of the disease.

    Earth ague wasn¡¯t all that common, caused by the body absorbing an unbalanced amount of mana initially aligned to earth. It was fairly straightforward to cure, and indeed, he could sense no lingering traces of it.

    Nor could he find any trace of unknown healer¡¯s mana, but that didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t present. Perhaps it had been left dispersed improperly in her mana flows, and some of it had been collecting in her brain?

    ¡°Alright, this shouldn¡¯t take more than a moment,¡± Ferris said, beginning to spin up one of the more complicated healing techniques.

    This one actually came from tomes Roswaal had lent him, a general purpose analytical spell, designed to avoid disturbing sensitive internals.

    It came together, surrounding his patient''s head like a helmet, small threads sinking through the skull, and incredibly fine threads tracing the folds on the surface of her brain without sinking into it.

    Then, finally, Ferris saw it.

    There was a clump of something, so faint that it appeared like a mist, embedded into her frontal lobe. Exactly what it was, Ferris couldn¡¯t tell, but it was definitely foreign. But there was something else, too. It almost felt¡­ familiar.

    It was directing his patient¡¯s internal mana to fight against him, but wasn¡¯t trying all that hard to protect itself.

    This should be easy, then.

    Seven threads dove into the folds of the brain, striking into the cloud, and each splitting into seven hooks.

    The cloud reacted in a desperate frenzy, trying to direct his patient¡¯s mana to protect itself, but Ferris had already cut off its control.

    From there, it was a simple matter to pull his hooks away, tearing the cloud apart and allowing it to be dissolved in the internal mana flow.

    The entire process had taken no more than a minute.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s finished,¡± Ferris said cheerily, putting all his focus into disguising his inner feelings. ¡°You can go now. Stay out of trouble, and avoid putting too much pressure on your arm. I¡¯d recommend against carrying anything with it for a day or two.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡±

    The woman blinked, staring up at him in confusion. Her eyes had lost their edge of sharpness, and now she seemed more fearful than predatory.

    ¡°I was¡­? Um, right,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll do that, sir knight.¡±

    She hesitantly got to her feet, and stumbled towards the exit.

    ¡°Also,¡± Ferris called after her, ¡°could you tell the guards to not send anyone else in for five minutes? I need to take a look at something.¡±

    She turned back, hesitating for a moment, then nodded.

    Ferris watched until she had left, then his face fell, dark emotions bubbling up inside him.

    That wasn¡¯t an accident. That wasn¡¯t natural. What in the Dragon¡¯s name was that?

    There had been something in that woman, something that was making her act out as a violent rioter. The sheer difference in her behaviour after he had torn it apart had proved that.

    But what? It can¡¯t have been a healing technique, it was fighting me.

    He felt a chill go up his spine, and he clenched his teeth.

    It almost felt like a curse. But it was different. Weaker, more subtle¡­ and harder to spot.

    Ferris had healed dozens of people that day, but he hadn¡¯t detected even the slightest thing wrong in any of them until his¡­ ¡®mildly unethical¡¯ foray into his latest patient¡¯s head.

    Every curse he had encountered in Roswaal¡¯s training had symptoms that he was able to see easily, even when he couldn¡¯t detect the source itself. But this¡­ this was almost invisible until he was looking right at it. If it hadn¡¯t fought him, it was likely he wouldn¡¯t have spotted it at all.

    Which raises the question¡­ who else has been infected by it?

    He had been checking his friends regularly for curses, but the head was difficult to work with. He never gave it more than a passing glance running through a checkup. It was very unlikely he¡¯d have spotted whatever this was.

    Could Fourier have already been infected with it? Could Crusch? Neither had been acting more aggressive, but perhaps it could do other things as well, like tiring them or otherwise messing with their emotional state.

    Could some of the knights have been compromised by it? Images of Sir Oberon and the other traitor knights flashed through his mind.

    He shook his head.

    No, there¡¯s no way Teacher and I would have missed something so widespread. We both check the knights often enough, and Fourier pays attention to everyone¡¯s mood.

    But a trace of his doubt remained. Fourier¡¯s attention was stretched thin, and no one had noticed Sir Oberon¡¯s betrayal. Was it really that unreasonable to believe their ranks may have been compromised?

    Regardless, now that I know about it, I won¡¯t let anyone else remain corrupted by it, whatever it is. I¡¯ll check Fourier, Crusch, and everyone else as soon as I see them. But first¡­

    He began weaving mana together, replicating the technique he had just cast, and then carefully placing it on his own head.

    Using magic to investigate oneself was much harder than doing so on someone else. Ferris would compare it to trying to twist around to examine the base of his own tail.

    But as the premiere healer in the kingdom, he¡¯d be able to manage to make it work.

    Naturally, he didn¡¯t expect to actually find anything. He was sensitive to the flows of his own mana, he would have detected any attempt to interfere with it. But it would be arrogant not to make sure anyway. His actions had nothing to do with the sickly feeling of fear in his chest, that he might have missed another terrible threat to Fourier.

    He was just being wise.

    When his spell settled into place and started extending tendrils into his skull, Ferris began to move them about, and probed the same spot he had detected the magic in his previous patient. He was going to sweep over his entire head, just to be sure, but it was best¡­ best to start¡­ with¡­

    His thoughts trailed off, and his mind went blank. Then all at once, a deep and primal terror shot through his body.

    There¡¯s something in my head! There¡¯s something there! There¡¯s something there!

    ¡°Is everything alright, Sir Felix?¡±

    Ferris¡¯s eyes shot to the tent flap, and he suddenly became aware of his breathing, which had grown heavy and ragged. Had he screamed? He must have done something to surprise his guards.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he called out. ¡°I just need a few minutes more.¡±

    He didn¡¯t wait to hear the guard¡¯s response, diving immediately back into his own thoughts and the sensations he was getting from the spell.

    For a moment, he just watched it, trying to calm himself down so he didn¡¯t do anything stupid. Even if there was an unknown and dangerous magic inside his head, he shouldn¡¯t try to rip it out at once, even if he really wanted to.

    Healers had to be careful when working on the head, and that went tenfold for working on one¡¯s own head, as a single minor mistake could render him unconscious, and you didn¡¯t want the person with magic in your head to suddenly fall asleep in the middle of delicate operations.

    So as much as Ferris wanted to grab the thing and tear it out, he forced himself to wait, and spun together another spell.

    This one was overly complex, but that complexity was necessary. It would have to operate on its own if Ferris suddenly stopped controlling it, which meant a hell of a lot more extra flows of mana, bindings, and channels mana could use to escape safely.

    He double checked it, then, finally, he was able to attack the thing hiding in his own mind.

    At first, it didn¡¯t react. Ferris hadn¡¯t flooded his head with foreign mana first, and his spell was disguised in the flows of his own mana.

    When he almost had it enveloped, the magic shifted, trying to take some of Ferris¡¯s mana to fight him with, but Ferris wasn¡¯t going to let that happen.

    His mana flows turned on it, and his spell came down around it, squeezing tightly and preventing it from making any further moves.

    Alright. Then, now I should¡­

    He paused, two separate desires warring inside him. On the one hand, he wanted to crusch the thing as soon as possible, to free himself of its influence, but on the other¡­

    This was a new threat. One he hadn¡¯t noticed at all. One that had managed to infect him, the best healer in the kingdom.

    He had to learn everything he could about it, and do so quickly.

    So he grit his teeth, and began to spin up more investigative spells.

    The magic struggled against him, but he had a tight grip over it. Given that the battle was taking place in his own delicate brain, he was going to have to terminate it quickly, but before that happened he would learn what he could.

    He cast the first spell, and learned the magic was using its position just behind his frontal lobes to interfere with the communication between his conscious and unconscious mind. It was distorting his view of reality, then?

    His second spell examined how much stagnation the magic had been through. It started to destabilise his containment, forcing him to try and shore it up, but it did tell him that the magic was relatively new, no more than two weeks old. Around the start of the ceremony to call the Divine Dragon, then?

    Before his third spell was ready, the magic tried to break out, and his containment clamped down hard, crushing it to nothingness before it could damage his brain.

    And as it came apart, Ferris heard the ghost of an echo, words spoken so gently, but with terrible weight to them.

    Don¡¯t try to heal me.

    Those words were familiar. Very familiar.

    Ferris¡¯s mind raced, drudging up every memory of the ceremony. The events that had happened since he, Fourier, and Julius had broken out of the church had driven most of his recollections of the event to the back of his mind, but now that he was focusing on them, they came back to him easily.

    And he remembered the first day he had spent in the church. The boredom he had felt, the trip he had taken to get another book¡­

    And the clumsy priestess, who he had felt absolutely certain he should never, under any circumstance, try to heal.

    ¡°It was her,¡± he whispered with growing certainty.

    ¡°It was her! Guards!¡±

    He heard a commotion outside his tent as his guards jolted to alertness, and the tent flap was thrown open, two guards rushing inside.

    ¡°Get me in contact with Lady Crusch immediately, and get this division ready to move,¡± he ordered.

    ¡°I know exactly who¡¯s causing these riots.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°That¡¯s everything sorted then?¡± Fourier asked with a light smile as he walked around the room inspecting the massive metia.

    ¡°Yes, your majesty, the emergency broadcast should be ready to start when you give the order.¡± the butler said, bowing deeply.

    ¡°Thank you for your time and efforts then.¡± Fourier said, pausing to look each member of his staff in the eye. ¡°It couldn¡¯t have been easy to do this so quickly in such conditions, but I promise you that it is of the utmost importance.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Your Majesty, it was an honour.¡± One by one each of the staff quietly exited the room, leaving Fourier alone.

    Holding the smile in case anyone double-backed, Fourier took a deep breath and slowly released it, finally allowing the smile to fade as he did so.

    Rubbing his forehead he did his best to push back the pain and exhaustion, as he knew that he¡¯d need to be at his best soon.

    Seeing the metia dim, he began with the speech he¡¯d prepared.

    ¡°My fellow citizens, I am afraid I am speaking to you tonight to deliver grave news.¡± Fourier began, his voice solemn and heavy with grief.

    ¡°Right now, many of you are dealing with the riots that have formed over the Divine Dragon''s failure to appear during my coronation ceremony, and I wish that the matter was as simple as indulging some of our mistaken citizenry and allowing our Divine Dragon to appoint a new ruler, but I¡¯m afraid that¡¯s no longer possible.

    ¡°Our city is in chaos as Foreign Forces seek to divide and conquer us. I''ve already personally encountered Elsa the Bowel Hunter myself, and worst yet that isn¡¯t even the worst of the news I have to present tonight.

    ¡°Our beloved Divine Dragon, who we have long since believed to be immortal, has been found slain. His body lies desecrated, and here we are fighting our fellow citizens rather than mourning our fallen protector, and finding out how this happened!¡±

    By the end Fourier was shouting, as he allowed his genuine stress and worry to shine through.

    ¡°We cannot allow the perpetrators of this horrendous crime to get away with their plans of turning us against one another,¡± Fourier pleaded, but before he could continue, he heard a loud creaking noise from above him.

    His eyes snapped upwards, and he cut off his speech in shock as he saw the ceiling starting to break apart, and with the cracks came a skyrocketing temperature as he saw partially melted cement fall towards him.

    Fourier nimbly dodged each of the falling debris before doubling back as he realised just what they were about to hit.

    With a loud crash they buried the metias, cutting the connection instantly. Thankfully they were durable enough that it was unlikely any of them were broken, but as he looked up and saw a sea of flames, he wasn¡¯t so certain that it would matter for much longer.

    How could a fire this large be created in the Palace! No more importantly, is that Julius falling from the Flames?!

 A Duel Amid Flames

    The grinding sound of moving stone was barely perceptible, not even echoing in the tight space, before the dusty corridor suddenly had a new occupant.

    Elsa, the infamous Bowel Hunter, wasted no time. She sprinted through the empty corridor at her full speed, yet her heels made no noise at all on the stone floor. Perhaps she was equipped with a sound-dampening metia, or perhaps she was simply so light on her feet that moving silently came as second nature to her.

    Despite the speed at which she moved, her face bore the same relaxed expression, showing no signs that infiltrating the palace of a foreign nation unnerved her.

    Suddenly, the silence was interrupted, as the ground under her feet began to rumble.

    Spiderweb cracks formed in a large diameter directly below the raven-haired woman, the floor itself beginning to give way.

    It was no trap.

    Elsa Greinhart would never be so clumsy as to activate a tripwire.

    Not to mention, the location she was in, at the top of a stairwell leading to the cellars, was well-traveled enough that a trap placed there would be dangerous.

    It wasn¡¯t all that far down, but the hole that opened was still deep enough that no ordinary individual would be able to survive the fall, and yet the Bowel Hunter¡¯s smile never wavered for a moment.

    Executing a series of dizzying but graceful movements, the woman danced in the air, kicking off the debris falling around her to launch herself sideways, away from the rest of the rubble.

    She landed in a crouch, swiftly drawing both of her kukri blades, her eyes flicking over her surroundings. She didn¡¯t slow for a moment, dashing through the darkness towards the figure of a person, her blades held at the ready, her smile deepening.

    Clang.

    Julius¡¯s blade easily deflected the blow, and sent the assassin skidding back from the resistance.

    ¡°It seems Lady Crusch¡¯s suspicions on the secret passage the assassin would take were correct,¡± Julius observed, a stern look on his face. ¡°I did not believe that I would have the pleasure to meet you again so soon, Elsa Greinhart.¡±

    ¡°Should the pleasure not be mine?¡± Elsa asked in amusement, twirling her blades. ¡°I do believe that you were the one who chose to cut our dance short.¡±

    ¡°You had caught me at a poor time, I''m afraid,¡± Julius said, raising his new blade even as multi-colored light danced on its edge. ¡°This time I have no such limitations.¡±

    ¡°Normally I¡¯d savor such a rare treat,¡± Elsa said, her smile fading slightly. ¡°However I¡¯m afraid I have an appointment to keep, so I¡¯ll have to keep this short. Please use that time to make this as memorable as possible.¡±

    ¡°An understandable request. I too am under time constraints,¡± Julius agreed and yet made no move forward, eyes locked on hers.

    ¡°Forcing a lady to make the first move? Not the most knightly of actions.¡± Elsa said, shaking her head. Then she launched herself forward, swinging her blades with sudden savagery.

    ¡°I am simply allowing you to set the pace,¡± Julius said, narrowing his eyes slightly as he took a step forward to launch his own counter-attack.

    Unable to take the strain of matching even the beginnings of Julius¡¯s techniques, Elsa¡¯s blade keened as he broke through one to land a fatal blow, and yet even as her body fell, Julius did not allow his guard to waver. He kicked off the ground sending himself backwards, even as Elsa swung her remaining blade with wild abandon.

    ¡°Such a wound would be fatal to any ordinary individual,¡± Julius observed, watching as her flesh rippled, her wound rapidly regenerating. He¡¯d mistaken such healing for Water Magic at first, but now with a longer time to observe, he could see that it was nothing so benign.

    ¡°Then it is good that I am no longer such an individual I suppose,¡± Elsa said with a hint of melancholy in her tone as she withdrew a new kukri blade.

    ¡°Surely you cannot expect to best me as you are now,¡± Julius said. ¡°Even if you can recover from such injuries, I do not believe that it would come easily. Will you not surrender?¡±

    ¡°I believe that you underestimate the amount of damage you will need to cause,¡± Elsa replied, reading herself to dash forward once more.

    ¡°El Goa,¡± Julius began, sadness dancing in his eyes even as he swung his blade to release a probing fireball that Elsa barely dodged, leaving her to once more suffer a fatal injury at his blade.

    She didn¡¯t allow the injury to slow her down, and surged forward to swing at the knight once more, but if the first time had surprised and pushed him back, in the second, the finest knight showed no signs of retreat. Instead, his blade lit up brilliantly as Ia and Alo worked together.

    ¡°Fell Goa!¡± Julius declared, eyes filled with resolve as the powerful firestorm took shape, allowing no escape. Its power was enough to melt even steel and was by far the strongest Fire spell he could create. Powered by two elements working in unison, it was a spell few could come close to matching.

    Julius locked eyes with Elsa, watching as her body started to melt away. Her eyes were one of the first things to go, seeming to turn pure white before bursting into flames, her skin following soon after, slouching off her bones and blackening in the heat.

    She still fought on, her burning skeleton attempting to walk towards him, her muscle tissue trying in vain to regenerate to keep herself walking, but all that did was put her closer to the intense heat the fire produced. Within seconds, even the bones and her kukuri themselves started to melt, and the skeleton fell, unable to move anymore.

    Closing his eyes, he prayed that the dark-haired murderess''s end was as painless as possible. It would be more than she granted her victims, but a true knight could not afford to indulge in sadism.

    He¡¯d never used this technique against a human being before, and had hoped to guarantee a far less painful execution method. But if the beginnings of Al Clauseria hadn¡¯t proved any more effective than a normal stab, then it was unlikely that even bringing its full power would make the difference.

    Ferris had said that against a regenerating foe, his best bet was to use the element of Fire, and so he had turned to the most powerful fire technique he had created, something he had few opportunities to test out, Fell Goa.

    Slowly stepping towards the blackened Skeleton, small flames still clinging to its form, he reached towards its eye sockets, Ia already preparing to shield him from the intense heat.

    Performing such a seemingly meaningless action was a formality he knew many of the other knights disregarded, and to perform such an action on a corpse he¡¯d butchered made the guilty feeling he felt intensify. But he pushed those feelings aside, as he allowed himself a moment of solemnity for the life he¡¯d been forced to end.

    He refused to believe that it was wrong for any true knight to show even the worst murderers some solace, and it was such acts that drove him to follow his dream to its end.

    Against a creature such as Elsa Granhiert, however, such chivalry would only lead to further hardship.

    The skeleton lunged at him.

    Its burning claws tore through his defensive barrier of wind in an instant, sinking into his flesh, hissing as the heat caused his blood to boil. They scraped against his reinforced rib cage, cracking it, but failing to tear through entirely.

    The force of the blow still sent Julius flying back. His blade tore through the bricked stone in an attempt to slow him down, but his momentum was great enough he was still forced back several feet. Julius shook his head forcing back the dizziness and ignoring the touches of black at the edge of his vision.

    Raising his eyes towards where the skeleton once lay, he watched breathless as its form cracked as it forced itself into a proper posture once more, even as impossibly muscle, blood and flesh started to form around it, the newly formed claws flexing.

    ¡°What a thoughtful gesture, even I wasn¡¯t expecting such emotion,¡± Elsa said with a deep blush, smiling at him, as the regeneration first seemed to target her face. It quickly spread though, if at a slightly slower pace, even as the ashes, blood and flesh formed in a disgusting mix, sending Julius¡¯s stomach turning.

    ¡°How¡ª?¡± Julius asked, only to be cut off by a coughing fit. He could feel liquid in his mouth, too viscous to be spit.

    Blood.

    For it to be surfacing this fast, his internal organs must have been injured severely.

    Kua desperately tried to keep blood from filling his lungs and escaping his body. In¡¯s power faded from his blade as he felt his Yang Spirit desperately muster her remaining power to keep his body active. Already, the majority of her power had been spent preventing the blow from tearing him in half.

    Ake desperately gathered as much mana as she could for the two sisters, as they quickly surpassed the limit his gate could provide.

    Ia, Alo and Nes clammored for his attention, begging for him to run away, even if in their heart of hearts, they doubted such an attempt would be feasible.

    ¡°That hasn¡¯t been the first time I¡¯ve been burned alive, even if most have not been so thorough. Unfortunately, it will take far more than that to kill me, even if you have destroyed my favorite tools,¡± Elsa said as she dashed towards him.

    In comparison to their prior clash, Julius found Elsa was even faster now not weighted down with her signature blades, but while she had proven skilled with a blade, he found that she proved less so now that she was attacking with her claws.

    Even without the additional strength and speed In provided, he found himself outmaneuvering her and landing numerous telling blows.

    His blade once more burning with fire, Ia launched the fireball at the woman''s face, destroying her features once more. His gate burned as it continued to provide its maximum output to Kua, as she prevented his blood from leaving his body despite his quick movements. Such were his wounds that even if he allowed himself to rest, Kua would have been hard-pressed to save his life.

    Against such an onslaught? Where every movement threatened to reopen his wounds, even as Julius pushed himself harder in order to keep up with Elsa¡¯s supernatural speed? Kua was being hard-pressed to simply keep him moving.

    No longer hindered by needing to provide a facade, the burning skeleton continued to move fluidly, as it launched rapid strikes, as she continued to charge at the increasingly haggard Knight, who should have been filled with despair at his inevitable death. Yet in the finest knights eyes, resolve continued to burn as he met each strike with all of his spirit.

    Yet even in such a state, Julius cautioned his spirit with caution as he gave ground, towards his foe, in order to prevent himself from being overwhelmed. Already he¡¯d landed several telling blows, but an enemy that could essentially ignore his strikes to land even a glancing one of their own, would allow even the most unskilled of enemies to eventually triumph, and it was a testament to the finest knights skills that he¡¯d lasted this long.

    Only a bit longer, Alo, In, I entrust everything to you.

    Eyes never losing the light of determination, Julius continued his deadly dance with the fearsome Bowel Hunter.

    <hr>

    It took all the determination he could muster, but even as the minutes passed and his spirits strained to keep up, Julius never wavered keeping his full attention on his foe, but in time his faith was rewarded.

    Returned. Area ready.

    Julius nodded as Alo and Ia returned from the mission he had assigned them. They had been reluctant to leave him even for the short duration and considering his current state, he certainly couldn¡¯t blame them. Still this could be the key to his victory.

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that this battlefield won¡¯t do for the conclusion of our battle,¡± Julius hissed, as he threw himself backwards and shifted so that he could start to sprint towards the trap they¡¯d created.

    He¡¯d considered if he could manage to trick the woman into following him, but considering the distance, it just wasn¡¯t a feasible option.

    Better to gamble on the fixation she¡¯d shown, and trust that she would come after him.

    Based on Nes¡¯s report, Elsa hasn¡¯t taken the chance to return to her mission but was right behind him instead. He took a moment to thank his Yin spirit for the information, even without the sound dampening metia the woman was absurdly quiet for a burning skeleton, if not for his spirit he wouldn¡¯t even be sure Elsa was still with him.

    In less than half a minute they reached their destination, in the form of a room burning bright with an inferno hot enough that without Ia¡¯s protection he¡¯d die in seconds.

    Such was the product of both Ia and Alo¡¯s mission, they had found a room full of flammable objects and then created a small but intense fire, and steadily fed it more items until it was one of the most intense fires he had ever come across. Fire mana drifted from the air in waves, easily visible to a spiritualist of his capability.

    ¡°Is this where our duel will conclude?¡± Elsa asked, voice rising and falling as her lungs were repeatedly destroyed.

    ¡°It is,¡± Julius confirmed. ¡°Thank you for playing along and not forcing me to chase you.¡±

    ¡°After all the fun you¡¯ve provided me, it¡¯s the least I can do to repay you.¡± Elsa said dashing towards him, uncaring of the intensifying blaze that was forming around him.

    ¡°Then allow me to show you something that I created solely for you¡± Julius shouted as he created a feedback of power. Rather than generate his own heat solely through his mana, Julius channeled the Fire Mana that this room provided in ample qualities, even as Alo intensified it by funneling all of his own mana into wind.

    Fell Goa grew in power until he felt as if he was holding a small star, the only source of light in the area as it consumed all that produced heat to produce something that was more than the sum of its parts.

    ¡°This is goodbye, Elsa,¡± Julius announced, closing his eyes.

    Ia, Kua, Alo, Ake, Nes, In, thank you so much for putting up with me for all these years. Every day with you for the last decade has been a treasure, and when I first became a knight I worried that the additional workload would put a strain on our relationship. Instead, you¡¯ve amazed me by how much you¡¯ve grown despite my knighthood.

    I know that one day you¡¯ll all bloom into some of the finest spirits imaginable. Most of all thank you for always putting up with my selfish requests, and putting value into things like Lugunica simply because I asked you to. I hope that one day, that all of you can discover the value such things can bring yourselves. Even if this is the end, I will not shame the blossoms you will one day become.

    ¡°Fell Goa!¡± Julius shouted as he released the energy gathered.

    The air itself caught ablaze as the superheated torrent of energy rushed towards a surprised Elsa, not even pausing as it devoured her whole, easily melting the stone and cement around it, as it triggered a domino effect, causing the floor itself to collapse.

    Julius felt himself slump, as darkness crept in his vision, but he fought the comforting darkness off. If this was to be his end then he wanted to see it with his own eyes.

    Yet if this was his fate, he found himself satisfied. He¡¯d defended his Kingdom to the end, and managed to defeat a dangerous foe. He could leave the rest to Reinhard, Fourier and Ferris, his dear friends, and he knew that his spirits would grow even without him.

    Feeling an abrupt stop to his fall, his closing eyes reopened in surprise to see His Majesty¡¯s face, as he realized the slimmer man had launched himself into the air to catch him.

    Deftly avoiding the falling debris, the royal used the nearby ones as platforms, pushing himself further away from the collapsing room and ensuring the final fall was as gentle as possible to avoid aggravating Julius¡¯s wounds.

    ¡°I don¡¯t recall giving you my permission to get this badly wounded, Julius.¡± Fourier said crimson eyes blazing with fury, even as he never stopped moving. ¡°I¡¯m going to need my personal knight in one piece, after all. Your duty is far from over.¡±

    Smiling, Julius found the darkness once more creeping forward, but this time he didn¡¯t fight it. Instead he allowed its comforting numbness to fall through his body, knowing that Fourier would find a way, and that the time would come when he¡¯d reopen them.

    <hr>

    Dashing through the hallways, carrying the increasingly heavy form of one of his best friends¡¯ dying body wasn¡¯t what Fourier pictured his afternoon would be like, but then, the day had been one unpleasant surprise after another.

    Despite the strain, he forced his arms to be completely still, attempting his best to prevent Julius from jostling at all, as he kept his upper half stiff. Draining the Sceptre of its mana, he poured it through his muscles haphazardly, using it to strengthen the muscles enough that they could maintain the demand he needed.

    Julius owes me for this pain! It¡¯s beyond even what I can tolerate! And here I thought after the curse no physical pain would bring me to tears again!

    What felt like liquid fire broiled in his muscles, strengthening them even as the foreign mana ran rampant through his system. Normally when he drew from the Sceptre¡¯s energy, all he¡¯d been doing was reclaiming the mana that he himself had provided. The Sceptre had changed the texture of his mana, but it still recognized him as its master, and easily bent to his will.

    Unfortunately, he¡¯d drained the last traces of his own mana with his flagrant usage of it, and he¡¯d burned through nearly two week¡¯s supply of mana he¡¯d provided quickly. Thankfully, there was another far greater mana reserve in the Sceptre, and all he¡¯d needed to do was to lay claim to it.

    In another situation, a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Ferris would have cautioned him about attempting something so risky, as another person''s mana could easily poison somebody when not used with the careful affinity and precision of water.

    Here and now, all he needed to know was that energy was the only chance he had at saving Julius, his knight and now one of his closest friends.

    So he¡¯d laid claim to the foreign reserve of power, and braced himself as the Sceptre glowed ominously before losing its light forever.

    The Sceptre that had chosen each king for generations shattered, its power spent, but even that wouldn¡¯t be enough. Closing his eyes he stifled a scream as he¡¯d pushed his body to move faster than it ever had before.

    Even now, with what felt like fire running through his veins, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to regret it, as he¡¯d managed to use it to do exactly what he wanted to.

    He¡¯d saved Julius, and with how much foreign mana was crammed into the staff, it would easily last the trip to the other side of the castle and beyond.

    The better question would be whether his body would be able to keep up.

    His body had already been pushed to the brink when he¡¯d forced his still shaking form to save Crusch, he¡¯d pushed beyond it, fueled by the thought of what could happen to Crusch if he failed. There he¡¯d pushed past his limits, solely using his stored mana, but here that was no longer an option, and the only choice he had was to try to limit the spread of the contaminating energy.

    Glancing at his arms through the sheen of his tears, he could see his nails starting to grow as he felt his bones start to shift in place, pain flooding his senses constantly, but all that mattered was that they helped his arms stay perfectly steady and allowed him to carry his fading friend.

    He could live without his arms. He would not be able to live with himself if he became a man who put his own well-being above his friends'' lives.

    The changes will hopefully fade with time, he thought without much hope, as he found his body¡¯s energy slowly start to rise, as he found his steps surer and faster, as even the areas he carefully isolated from the foreign energy, started to benefit. If it wasn¡¯t for the continued agony of his arms, he might even have been fooled into thinking the foreign mana was purely beneficial.

    But even as the foreign mana helped his own weakened mana recover, he could see that it was attempting to test the boundaries he¡¯d set for it, and that in time it would succeed. Fourier wasn¡¯t sure what it would do if it reached his heart or brain, and hoped that he could stop the flow before that point.

    <hr>

    ¡°Medics! I need urgent medical care,¡± Fourier shouted as he barreled through the isolated area they¡¯d set up for their healers. They were far from the castle¡¯s main wing, and thus hopefully far enough to not get caught up in the aftermath of the assassination attempt. Part of him regretted just how far he¡¯d placed them, but the rest was just grateful it meant that there was little chance any of them was hurt in that fire.

    Seeing the medics start to swarm him, he gently handed the sleeping knight over, and almost sat down himself.

    Getting their opinion and help with the Foreign Mana was essential and it could even save his arms, the chances the Mana had created were only just beginning to take shape, as he looked at the back of his hand and saw the skin start to change texture.

    Putting it off would drastically increase his chance of needing an amputation but¡­

    ¡°This is one of the most important demands I will ever make,¡± Fourier said sternly, as he looked at one of the younger medics. ¡°My speech was cut off, in one of the worst possible ways, and I¡¯d barely begun to talk to them about the Dragon, and more importantly, what we can do together to fix this. Please tell me your unfiltered thoughts on how you feel right now, as your answer could help decide the fate of our Kingdom itself.¡±

    Flinching the young medic cowered for several seconds before slowly answering. ¡°I was afraid, Your Majesty. That the Divine Dragon could die¡­ it¡¯s simply inconceivable. I know first hand just how amazing you are, but even I doubted if you were telling the truth at that moment. I didn¡¯t know what to do and froze up completely, if it wasn¡¯t for our leader pulling me out of it, I would still be shaking.¡±

    Nodding slowly Fourier allowed the failure to sink in, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to regret any of his decisions, as it¡¯d led him to saving a close friend''s life, but equally he couldn¡¯t turn a blind eye to the responsibilities he¡¯d abandoned to do it.

    Opening his eyes, Fourier looked at his friend being attended to one final moment before turning around.

    ¡°Do not fear, as the King of Lugunica, I, Fourier Lugunica will put all your fears and worries to rest, and help us stand together!¡± Fourier declared loudly, even as he finally broke the contamination field he¡¯d set up.

    Establishing a new one, he guided the energy to his legs, carefully avoiding his internal organs, as he dashed out of the room, picking up speed as he went. The pain grew even worse, until it felt as if it was infringing on his thoughts themselves, but he forced his way past it. He didn¡¯t need to be at his best until he arrived at his destination after all.

    His now malformed limbs felt jumbled, as if he was forcing his way upon something that no longer belonged to him. He had his suspicions about what he could do to change that, but he¡¯d save removing the containment wave until it proved absolutely necessary.

    Instead he turned to another sense that had been growing sharper as if in response to the situation, and with only a hint of gratitude that no one was before him, the King of Lugunica allowed himself to fall to all fours.

    For a moment it felt even more foreign than running, but his eyes picked up the growing speed at which he sped through the castle halls, making quick work to his destination.

    The first thing he saw as he drew near was the incense heat, the air itself rippling as the Fire Mana ran rampant. For a moment he allowed himself to feel grateful that there weren''t many products to burn so at least he¡¯d avoided the smoke.

    Yet the Fire mana should have died down by now unless¡­

    ¡°The mirrors,¡± Fourier hissed, his voice sounding guttural even to his own ears. To think the Fire mana had grown so intense and powerful it had gained the ability to feed on a mana source as pure as the mirrors should have been absurd, yet it was the only possible explanation all the same.

    For a second he wavered unsure what even to do, would advancing simply be throwing his life away for nothing?

    I can still turn back, chances are the changes may have passed the point of an easy fix, but I¡¯d still be alive.

    But the face of that terrified young man stayed planted firmly in his thoughts, and with an inward swear, Fourier instead dove head first into the conflagration instead.

    He felt it as his hair itself caught fire, even his armor glowing brilliantly as it struggled to handle the heat constantly assaulting it.

    The castle-forged metal, warded with the strongest magic the royal family had created slowly started to melt as the intense heat surpassed anything the creators could ever have imagined.

    Throughout it all, Fourier kept marching forward, as the foreign mana shielded his skin from the worst of the heat, allowing it instead to flake off to reveal a glimmer that looked almost like tightly knit scales.

    Arriving at his destination, Fourier could see that his worst fears were well realized as a few of the mirrors had already dissolved into mana, swiftly dissolved and devoured by the ever intensifying heat.

    Guided by his instincts, Fourier jumped over the debris littering the room and twisted his body mid-leap to release a torrent of the foreign mana in order to weaken the Fire mana in the area.

    Fourier knew it was a success in an instant, as the heat decreased by an order of magnitude, even as the still painful heat lingered, and he arrived at the remaining mirrors.

    Less than half remained in the pristine conditions they had been in only a few hours ago, but Fourier did not allow him to slow him down, as he modified the set-up swiftly. The quality would not be quite as high, and the possibility of it reaching less distance was also a distinct possibility, but he would not allow doubt to slow him down now.

    He had decided that giving his citizens a goal, to help them calm down and potentially stop the riots was worth a great deal, potentially even his life, and he would not back down now.

    Activating the remaining mirrors carefully, Fourier pulled from the core of what was left of his personal mana, allowing it to carefully coat his throat, in an attempt to hide the changes forming in his voice.

    ¡°Citizens of Lungunica, I¡¯m afraid that I was forced to halt our precious moment of mourning due to an attack that is still on-going inside the castle. I will not lie and say that I didn¡¯t consider leaving addressing you until after the conflict was resolved.  But I realized that I would be making the same mistake many of you may be forced to make.

    ¡°We cannot simply ignore the greater issues in order to face what is in front of us! We must stand together as one, as the brave citizens of our beloved nation and keep everyone safe. I am not saying that you should attempt to actively stop those misguided enough to harm others, if you feel that it would put you in danger, but I am saying that we must not allow this doubt to fester and cripple us!

    ¡°Right now the thing that our enemies most desire is to divide the great nation of Lugunica and turn brother against brother! We can not allow them to succeed!

    ¡°Instead, I want you to find somewhere safe, and to actively reach out to help those around you and ensure they can also reach safety.

    ¡°By choosing to put our family first, we are in turn upholding the values of Lugunica, a place founded so that people could live happily with their families in peace!

    ¡°But that¡¯s what makes our nation so prosperous, and a place that I am truly grateful to be King of. It is not just our blood that makes one family. It¡¯s friendships, bonds and ties that are truly worth more than our lives themselves!

    ¡°I know that for many of you, all you truly need is a slight push in order to achieve truly wondrous things, so let me be your ally and let¡¯s end this, once and for all!

    ¡°For Lugunica!¡±

    Fourier stared at the dimming mirrors for a few seconds, allowing himself to slump forward as his abused mana rushed back to his core, and simply lay on the painfully hot floor, and after a long pause forced himself back up.

    Looking at the spot he lay, he could see the shimmering gray as pieces of his still molten armor was left behind, but with a sign, Fourier allowed himself to fall back to the ground and begin the long crawl back, he¡¯d dealt with greater humiliations before he reminded himself, before the pain robbed him of even that humor.

 The Evil Eye of Indoctrination

    Ferris had to expend all his self-control to not to go dashing off ahead of the division of soldiers accompanying him. They were moving so slowly. The caution was necessary, considering the state of the city, but Ferris didn¡¯t have to like it.

    He had already checked all of them for the priestess¡¯s magic. Most of them had been clear, but the faint weavings of mist had lain dormant in the heads of two of them. At least, Ferris assumed they had been dormant. They had been even more well-hidden than the ones that had lain on Ferris and his patient, given that they hadn¡¯t been trying to interfere with the mind¡¯s thought process.

    Fortunately, finding them had still been easy enough. Ferris knew what to look for, and had already memorised the priestess¡¯s mana signature.

    He had questioned both guards, and both had admitted that they had visited the church¡¯s delegation for healing minor afflictions. Though curiously, one hadn¡¯t been healed himself, he had escorted a relative to the location, which implied that the priestess didn¡¯t need to use her healing magic to activate her mind manipulation.

    That matched with what Ferris had experienced. Even if he had been caught off guard in his meeting with her, he wouldn¡¯t have failed to notice if she started using healing magic.

    In fact, given his extraordinary senses, he was relatively sure he wouldn¡¯t have failed to pick it up if she had used her gate at all, which implied that what she had done was some kind of natural talent, like Crusch¡¯s Divine Protection.

    He had asked the two guards to describe the priest who had been attending the delegation, and both had given a similar set of features. Long, purple hair worn in twin-tails, a blue nun¡¯s outfit, and striking amber eyes.

    Both matched Ferris¡¯s own recollections of the priestess.

    Melty Pristis.

    The clumsy girl he had met in the church, who he had pitied and almost healed. She had forcibly stopped him with her ability, so whatever it was, it must be readily visible under the scrutiny of healing magic.

    The fact that all three of the victims remembered the same person was a good sign, it meant that it was very likely that Melty was the only person with the ability to use the brainwashing magic, leading further credence to Ferris¡¯s theory that it was an innate skill of hers.

    This might explain why Oberon and the other traitor knights turned against us. If I couldn¡¯t spot her laying that magic on me, how could anyone else expect to? If it affected me¡­ who couldn¡¯t it affect?

    He paused.

    Well¡­ Reinhard, obviously, but who other than him?

    ¡°Sir Felix, please wait.¡±

    A voice broke through Ferris¡¯s ponderings, and he stopped in his tracks, glancing back at the division guarding him.

    He had started pulling ahead of them again. He couldn¡¯t help himself, at last he could put a face to one of the culprits of their misfortunes, but it would mean nothing if he died to bugs on his way.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he said to the soldier who had approached him. ¡°I was lost in my thoughts.¡±

    ¡°I understand,¡± the soldier said with a mild smile. He was the captain of the division of soldiers Ferris had command of. He was following Ferris¡¯s orders without complaint, which felt strange to Ferris. He still tended to think of himself as a simple civilian, not a fully-fledged knight of the kingdom.

    ¡°I understand all too well,¡± the captain continued. ¡°If there¡¯s a chance to make all these people go home peacefully, we¡¯d be fools not to jump at it.¡±

    Ferris nodded, and began walking again, trying to match the pace of the soldier by his side.

    It was questionable if Melty truly was going to be able to deactivate the magic she had weaved over so many people, and it was questionable that Ferris would be able to force her to do so in the first place, but it was a chance, so he had to try.

    ¡°We¡¯re getting close to the cathedral,¡± the captain reported. ¡°Are you sure this is where we¡¯ll find the target?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Ferris admitted. ¡°But this is her stronghold. The centre of her influence. This is the best place to check.¡±

    Ferris¡¯s entire division only encompassed forty soldiers, but that should be enough to overpower what defenders the church had.

    But that¡¯s only if they don¡¯t have any more traitor knights hidden up their sleeves.

    ¡°Break down the gate!¡± the captain shouted, and an Earth mage responded by throwing a boulder at it.

    The cathedral¡¯s gate was sufficient to keep thieves from simply strolling right up to the building, but it was mostly decorative. It was not intended to defend against a siege.

    The mass of stone tore the metal off its hinges, and Ferris¡¯s soldiers streamed through to the church grounds.

    No response came from the cathedral. It was eerily quiet, and Ferris could feel the morale of his soldiers begin to dip while facing that imposing building.

    ¡°Blast the door open,¡± he ordered.

    ¡°Sir?¡± the captain asked in surprise. ¡°We can easily open it without having to resort to such methods.¡±

    Ferris shook his head. ¡°Perhaps, but I¡¯d prefer to do this in the way that is safest for us. We will need to fight to secure her, and I want us to have as much strength as possible for that encounter.¡±

    ¡°...as you say, Sir Felix. Blast it open!¡±

    A second later, another boulder was flying through the air.

    It crashed into the building, blowing right past the wooden doors and taking some of the surrounding stone wall with it.

    The rumble as the boulder rolled around inside reverberated over the grounds, but with his enhanced hearing, Ferris could also make out screams of pain. Their opponents had been waiting on the other side of the door, likely ready to ambush the soldiers as they entered.

    ¡°Alright men, forward!¡± the captain called out. ¡°Mathias, you and your squad are staying here. Watch the perimeter and don¡¯t let anyone escape, especially not our target!¡±

    A few soldiers began splitting out in groups of two to surround the building as the majority of Ferris¡¯s soldiers moved towards the now-open ¡®door¡¯.

    Ferris wasn¡¯t in the lead¡ªhe wasn¡¯t a combatant, after all¡ªbut he was right behind the first wave, the captain and another mage flanking him.

    Crusch had been overly protective when assigning him the division. She had been sure to include three mages, one of Earth, one of Wind, and one of Fire.

    Ferris was thankful for it now though. Combined with his healing magic to keep the foot soldiers in fighting shape, he was sure that they would be able to take on an opponent with significant numerical superiority.

    Almost as soon as they entered the building, the fighting started.

    Ferris could hear the clash of metal on metal as his soldier¡¯s blades met the priests¡¯ iron clubs. They hadn¡¯t even waited to see what the soldiers were here for before beginning to attack.

    ¡­well, to be fair, Ferris had just thrown a boulder at their door. They probably weren¡¯t in a conversational mood.

    ¡°We are Karsten forces acting in service of His Majesty!¡± the captain shouted over the din. ¡°We have reason to believe a traitor to the kingdom is hiding here. Surrender now!¡±

    If anything, his demand only made the priests fight harder.

    They threw themselves at the soldiers, lashing out with a fanatical fervour. It was enough to drive Ferris¡¯s soldiers back, into a rough semi-circle around the hole where the entrance used to be.

    Ferris himself hadn¡¯t even entered the building yet. He was stuck at the foot of the stairs leading up to the building, unable to get closer for fear of getting in his men¡¯s way.

    He had no combat ability, so all he could do was watch and wait for his soldiers to do what they had trained to do, and interfere only if his skills could be of use.

    As he watched, one of the priests stumbled, and the soldier he was fighting took full advantage of the opportunity to cut him down.

    The priest fell to the ground, his white robe turning blood-red.

    ¡°Bring him to me!¡± Ferris called out. ¡°Quickly!¡±

    They were enemies only because the priests were under someone else¡¯s control. Fourier wouldn¡¯t want any of them to die.

    Two of the soldiers that had been standing in reserve leapt into action, joining the fighting on that side to push the fighting line further into the building, and a third grabbed the fallen priest and dragged him back.

    Ferris dashed forward, and activated his healing magic at full force.

    The first thing to take care of was the wound. It was an ugly gash, stretching from shoulder to hip. The priest¡¯s rib cage had protected his heart and lungs for the most part, but his stomach had been ruptured, and his intestines were in a terrible shape.

    Ferris rushed through the process to make sure the priest¡¯s life wasn¡¯t in danger. It would need more work before he¡¯d truly be safe, but it would do temporarily.

    Once that was finished, he spun together his analytical spell, and looked into the man¡¯s brain.

    Sure enough, the faint wisps of mana he had started to grow familiar with were exactly where he expected them to be. But for this priest, they were much thicker than the ones that had lain on the rioter, his soldiers, or Ferris himself. He had likely undergone a much more thorough brainwashing process.

    Ferris wasted no time trying to analyse it. He fired hooks of mana into the mist, and then tore it apart.

    The man jolted, and his eyes opened, his gaze darting every which way.

    ¡°What? Wha¡ª? Where am¡ª? What just¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Where is Melty Pristis?¡± Ferris interrupted.

    The man blinked, and tried to focus on Ferris.

    ¡°Sir¡­ Sir Felix? What¡­ why are you¡­?¡±

    His eyes widened, and he sat bolt upright, tearing his wound open again. ¡°The enemy! We¡¯re under attack! Sir Ferris, you have to help¡ª¡±

    ¡°Lie back down!¡± Ferris ordered, trying to force the priest back onto the ground with one hand, and keeping his insides together with the other. ¡°You and the priests have been mentally affected by the priestess Melty Pristis. Where is she?¡±

    ¡°We were¡ª? No, that can¡¯t be right¡­ We were working for the sake of Lugunica. We had to de¡ª depose¡­¡±

    He started to go pale, and Ferris didn¡¯t think it was entirely due to the blood loss.

    ¡°We tried to depose His Majesty,¡± he whispered. ¡°What? Why did I¡ª? I would never lift a hand to try and¡ª But I¡ª¡±

    ¡°You were brainwashed!¡± Ferris explained, finally managing to get him onto his back. ¡°I need you to answer me! Where is Melty?¡±

    For the first time, the priest was able to lock eyes with Ferris. ¡°Melty? I think¡­ she was locked in the dungeons, wasn¡¯t she? But¡­ Why would a priestess be locked in the dungeons?¡±

    His face twisted up in confusion.

    ¡°What is happening?¡± he whispered, still seemingly unable to grasp what Ferris was telling him.

    ¡°Good question,¡± Ferris murmured, then shifted to look up at the man beside him.

    ¡°Captain, our target is in the dungeons. It¡¯s probably the most secure part of the building.¡±

    ¡°Not to worry, Sir Felix,¡± the captain replied. ¡°We¡¯ll be able to secure it. Alright men, forward!¡±

    As the soldiers began to push forward, Ferris finished re-healing the priest¡¯s wounds and got to his feet.

    ¡°Just stay there,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t move, or you¡¯ll reopen your wound again.¡±

    The priest tried to nod, but Ferris had used a lot of his internal mana reserves, so he was barely able to fight off his drowsiness.

    His eyes slowly closed, and Ferris turned his attention to the front.

    The soldiers had pushed their way forward to the main hall, where a grand melee had started to take place. Many pews had been pushed aside or knocked over, but they were still obstacles, and they broke up the neatly ordered ranks of the soldiers. The chaotic and disorganised way the priests tended to charge at them didn¡¯t help matters.

    The captain was furiously shouting orders to try and get the fight back under control, and Ferris wasn¡¯t about to distract him.

    He could, however, try and help in his own way.

    He darted to and fro, visiting every fallen body he could in order to make sure none were at death¡¯s door. For the fallen priests, he healed them with their own reserves, but for his own fallen soldiers, he used up some of his own mana. That would spare them from the usual post-healing drowsiness, and allow them to get back into the fight in bare minutes.

    The process for removing the brainwashing magic wasn¡¯t too time-consuming, but it was complicated enough that Ferris didn¡¯t want to perform it while his soldiers were fighting around him. Any one of them could suffer a grievous wound at any moment, and Ferris wanted to be free to immediately drop everything to address it.

    It was nerve-wracking, watching the battle take place. His soldiers were outnumbered, and the priests attacked furiously.

    Yet his soldiers still seemed to be winning the battle. There were ten soldiers standing in reserve, swapping into the line of combat when they had a chance to give the others a break. They had managed to clear the pews away from a small area, which let them fight in their preferred combat line.

    The intensity of the captain¡¯s orders had gone down somewhat, which Ferris took as a good sign. He wasn¡¯t well-versed enough in battle to estimate the fight on any other grounds.

    But perhaps he had relaxed too soon. The priests suddenly surged, pushing the line back.

    The captain cursed and barked out another order, ¡°Daryl, stop him!¡±

    The hairs on the back of Ferris¡¯s neck stood up as the mana in the air shifted, then the area behind the priests lit up with red light.

    Then the room exploded. Flaming pews were thrown in every direction, and the combat line disintegrated as the fighters were thrown to the ground.

    Ferris and the reserves were far enough away that they weren¡¯t caught up in the blast. While the soldiers rushed forward to get their companions out of the wreckage, Ferris ran to the centre of the line, where the soldiers who had taken the brunt of the explosion had fallen.

    ¡°Captain?¡± he called out, already conjuring a healing orb to treat the burns of the soldier in front of him. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°They had a fire mage,¡± the captain¡¯s voice answered, from not too far away.

    Ferris¡¯s eyes flicked to the source, and landed on the man, who was pulling himself into an upright position. He had been standing just behind the line, so was a little better off than the soldiers Feris was treating.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sir Felix,¡± one of the other soldiers said. ¡°I didn¡¯t notice him until it was too late. It was all I could do to disrupt him before he cast at us.¡±

    ¡°Not your fault, Daryl,¡± the captain reassured him. ¡°Your job was to watch for those bugs. We didn¡¯t expect a combat mage.¡±

    He turned back to Ferris. ¡°This is Lieutenant Daryl, our wind mage. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ve lost track of our earth mage.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± another voice called out from the right flank. The stone floor on that side of the room had been cracked open, and a wall of scorched earth stood between the soldiers and the source of the blast. Another soldier stepped through the wreckage of the room, slowing to stare down at the captain.

    ¡°Casualties are thankfully light. No deaths on our side, and we¡¯ve done basic first aid on the wounded,¡± he reported. ¡°Sir Felix, would it be within your capabilities to get everyone back into fighting shape?¡±

    Ferris nodded, letting his orb fade as he finished healing the soldiers around him.

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯ve still got plenty left in me.¡±

    He paused.

    ¡°What about the priests?¡±

    ¡°The mage is dead,¡± the earth mage responded. ¡°And two others were hit in vital spots by the pews. But the rest appear to be alive. We¡¯re doing first aid, but I need you to look at a handful. Half of them are going to need treatment for their burns, but that can afford to wait.¡±

    Ferris nodded. ¡°Alright. Where do you need me first?¡±

    <hr>

    It took a while for Ferris to finish healing everyone. Time seemed to fly by for him, but from the way the captain was pacing, it was taking longer than they¡¯d prefer.

    Ferris felt a bit bad that he hadn¡¯t remembered the man¡¯s name. Crusch had probably told him when she had assigned the man as captain of Ferris¡¯s division, but he could sometimes forget unimportant details like that. In his defence, he had a lot of things to keep track of these days.

    ¡°I believe we¡¯re ready to move,¡± the earth mage called out as Ferris finished healing the last soldier.

    His magic wouldn¡¯t be as useful if they had to fight bugs, so he was using his mana to fashion handcuffs from the stone of the building, in order to keep the priests contained in case they woke up before Ferris had a chance to remove the brainwashing.

    ¡°Excellent,¡± the captain said. ¡°Have you figured out where the basement is?¡±

    The earth mage nodded, tapping his foot against the stone floor, and Ferris felt the mana in the air shift as he activated his gate. ¡°It¡¯s mostly solid earth underneath us, but there¡¯s some stonework further into the building. I suspect it¡¯s a cellar of some kind.¡±

    ¡°Lead the way,¡± the captain ordered. ¡°Daryl, you¡¯re our rearguard. Sir Felix, please accompany me.¡±

    Ferris took position beside the captain as they began to move. They were leaving another ten soldiers behind to look after the prisoners, which left only twenty-five in their procession. Ferris was slightly nervous about that, but given the amount of priests they had already faced, it was likely that there were few enemies left in the building. Would twenty-five men even be able to manoeuvre in the tight space of an underground cellar?

    They walked through empty corridors, which Ferris vaguely recognised. He had not paid particular attention to the lower floors on his first visit, so he didn¡¯t know exactly where they were going, but the earth mage seemed confident.

    They reached a small, nondescript door at the end of one hallway. It didn¡¯t stand out at all. Ferris would have assumed it was just a broom cupboard. But when the earth mage pulled the door open, it revealed a dark tunnel, with stairs leading downwards.

    ¡°Tch,¡± the captain let out. ¡°It¡¯s too small to fight properly. If we get ambushed¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go first,¡± one of the soldiers spoke up. He wasn¡¯t one of the mages, nor did he have the markings of a lieutenant on his armour, Ferris noted. He was just one of the ordinary soldiers. Just another person Ferris hadn¡¯t learned the name of.

    He was unstrapping his shield, and pulling out a much smaller one, a buckler.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got some training with knife-fights,¡± the soldier continued. ¡°I can take point, and Lieutenant Daryl can focus on any bugs that appear.¡±

    The captain considered it for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Good suggestion. After Daryl, I¡¯ll go, then¡ª¡±

    ¡°Me,¡± Ferris interjected. ¡°There isn¡¯t going to be much space down there, and I need to be present to heal any that fall.¡±

    The captain hesitated, then nodded, the reluctance clear on his face. ¡°Very well, Sir Felix. Daryl, pick three of your best to bring up the rear. Harold, you watch our backs. If you sense anything, send someone down.¡±

    The earth mage nodded.

    Ah, so he¡¯s Harold, Ferris thought, filing that information away. Now all he needed was for someone to tell him the captain¡¯s name again.

    It took a moment for the soldiers to finish switching out their shields, and for the lead soldier to strap a lagmite lanturn to the front of his shield.

    They moved slowly down the tunnel, leaving enough space between them so they could hurriedly take a step back if necessary. As Ferris was fourth in the line, he couldn¡¯t see anything out in front of the line.

    But there weren¡¯t any shouts yet, and he could still see the flickering shadows cast by the light.

    ¡°I¡¯ve reached the bottom of the stairs,¡± the lead soldier reported. ¡°There¡¯s a door here. Not enough room to fit another person, I¡¯ll have to open it myself.¡±

    ¡°Daryl, stand right behind him,¡± the captain ordered. ¡°If you see something, blast it. I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s just a shadow, I¡¯m not losing a man in an obvious ambush point like this.¡±

    There was some shuffling from the front of the line, then Ferris heard the distinctive click of a door handle being pushed down.

    He waited, ears straining to pick up any sound, but he could only hear the quiet breaths of his soldiers.

    But¡­ perhaps he was simply imagining it, but he thought he could make out another sound, the faint buzzing of tiny wings.

    ¡°The door is clear,¡± the lead soldier called up. ¡°The room looks wide, like a hallway. There¡¯s a few more doors, but I don¡¯t see anyone.¡±

    ¡°Clear the doorway, but don¡¯t advance yet,¡± the captain ordered. ¡°Wait for all of us.¡±

    They slowly filed into the room, the other soldiers activating lagmite lanterns as they entered, attaching them to their belts to keep their hands free.

    The captain handed one of the glowing crystals to Ferris, and he awkwardly copied their actions to attach it to his side. It was rare that he appreciated his knight uniform, but this was one of those times. His usual dress didn¡¯t have a belt he could attach random objects to. Such was the price of cuteness.

    It was a rather short corridor, but spacious enough that three soldiers could walk abreast. Possibly it was intended as an additional storage room if the others were already full. Eight solid wooden doors lined the walls, three on each side, and two on the far side.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°We¡¯ll search them one by one,¡± the captain ordered. ¡°I¡¯ll check the first one. Daryl, back me up.¡±

    The two strode towards the first door on the left, letting the soldier previously on point relax for a moment while keeping watch with the other three from the rearguard.

    Ferris tilted his head, listening intently. The sound of footsteps of the soldier¡¯s boots on the pavement was quiet, but it still did much to drown out anything else.

    But as the captain reached the door, and the footsteps stopped momentarily, Ferris heard it again. The buzzing, skittering, and clicking of countless insects.

    ¡°Wait,¡± he said, and the soldiers went still, one of the captain¡¯s hands already on the door handle.

    ¡°I don¡¯t hear anything from most of these rooms,¡± Ferris explained in a whisper, directing his attention to a single door on the far wall.

    ¡°Just that one. I can hear insects. It sounds like a lot of them.¡±

    The soldiers didn¡¯t even wait for orders. They instantly moved to put themselves between Ferris and the door, though against a swarm, there would be little they could actually do to defend him.

    ¡°We¡¯ll start there, then,¡± the captain said. ¡°I¡¯ll open it. Daryl, behind me, and¡­¡±

    He paused, face heavy with apprehension, until¡­

    ¡°Sir Felix, I would appreciate it if you were out in front as well. Our hearing isn¡¯t as good, and we may need your healing immediately.¡±

    ¡°Sure. I can do that,¡± Ferris said, trying to keep his tone light, but it fell a bit flat in the dark and claustrophobic room they stood in.

    They moved to the door, stepping as lightly as possible to avoid making too much noise. Ferris thought it was likely that anyone inside would already have heard them from the creaking the door made as they entered, but if they were quiet, it would be easier for him to hear them.

    The captain placed one hand on the door handle, and activated a second lagmite lantern with his other.

    He nodded to Daryl, and the hair on the back of Ferris¡¯s neck stood up as the Wind mage activated his gate, conjuring a small spiral of air in his hand, ready to cast it.

    Then the captain threw open the door, and tossed the lagmite in, almost blinding Ferris as it brightened.

    He heard a flurry of wings and chirping and Daryl pointed his hand into the open doorway and¡ª

    The buzzing quieted back down. It was still louder than it had been, especially now that Ferris could hear it properly without a door in the way, but aside from that?

    ¡°Um¡­ Captain?¡± Daryl asked, eyes wide. He was the only one who could fully see inside the room. Both of his hands were raised, wind swirling around them, ready to fire a powerful spell at a moment¡¯s notice. But he had held back.

    ¡°I can see¡­ someone. A captive. I can¡¯t clear them without killing them.¡±

    A captive? Damnit, the priest didn¡¯t mention that!

    Ferris shifted to stand beside the wind mage, and peered into the room.

    It was like something out of a nightmare. The ground, walls, and ceiling were covered with insects. They were dyed in myriad colours, like a set of exotic carpets that shimmered as the insects moved.

    Only two things stood out about the room. The first was the small circle around the lagmite lantern, a clearing the insects had fled to avoid the thrown object.

    The other was a humanoid figure, sitting up straight in the middle of the room.

    Said figure was on their knees, almost as if in prayer, but all other details about them were obscured.

    Even Ferris¡¯s eyesight, enhanced by his demi-human blood, couldn¡¯t pick out more than a few details.

    The figure was covered from head to toe in the bugs. Wasps crawled up and down the arms, beetles fought battles amongst themselves on the lap, and spiders wove webs between the head and shoulders, crawling over the face with long, hairy legs.

    But Ferris was able to make out the blues of the robes the figure was wearing, and as a particularly large spider moved up her face, he was able to see one of her terrified amber eyes.

    ¡°That¡¯s our target,¡± he whispered. He didn¡¯t know why he was trying to keep his voice down. If the swarm was going to attack, they would have done so already.

    ¡°Is that so?¡± the captain asked, peering into the room from his side of the door. ¡°That¡¯s going to be troublesome. Are you able to tell from this distance whether we need her alive?¡±

    Ferris thought he heard a low whimper from Melty, but it was impossible to tell over the droning of the bugs.

    ¡°No,¡± he replied, shaking his head. ¡°Not until I can get close to her, and even then, this might not be something I can forcibly remove.¡±

    The captain nodded. ¡°I feared as much.¡±

    He glanced down, eyes tracing the line of bugs that slowly crept amongst each other. The door opened inwards, which had crushed more than a few of them and pushed many more away from the entrance, but now that it was open, the bugs had moved back to fill in the space. But they hadn¡¯t moved further.

    ¡°Can they not leave the room?¡± Ferris wondered. The bugs were very clearly avoiding moving out of the room, as if there was an invisible door still closed and sealing them in.

    ¡°It appears not,¡± the captain replied, kneeling down to get a better look at them. ¡°Perhaps if I¡­¡±

    He trailed off, going completely still.

    But before Ferris could ask what was wrong, he moved.

    His hand dove into the swarm, seizing a beetle and snapping back out again.

    None of the bugs in the room reacted, except to fill in the space the beetle had once occupied.

    ¡°Captain!?¡± Daryl cried out. ¡°You should have warned me if you were going to do something like that. What if they had attacked?¡±

    ¡°Ah, sorry, sorry,¡± the captain said. ¡°But look. They¡¯re not attacking. But this one¡­¡±

    He got back to his feet, lifting his hand to show the two of them his prize.

    It was a rather ordinary¡ªif somewhat large¡ªbeetle, one Ferris didn¡¯t recognise. Its legs were waving wildly, as it struggled in vain to free itself from the captain¡¯s grasp.

    ¡°I was able to take it out of the room. So it¡¯s not magic keeping them in.¡±

    He loosened his grasp, and the beetle immediately opened its carapace and extended its wings, flying right back into the room, headed for one of the walls.

    ¡°No,¡± Ferris agreed. ¡°Not magic. Then¡­ have they been ordered to remain in the room? That¡¯s why they don¡¯t want to leave?¡±

    ¡°It seems strange that they would not also be ordered to attack intruders,¡± the captain said. ¡°But insects aren¡¯t the most intelligent things. Perhaps they cannot remember too many instructions at once.¡±

    ¡°Or perhaps the Insect Controller simply never imagined that we would reach this place,¡± Ferris finished. ¡°In any case, they must not have noticed us yet, or they¡¯d have given new orders to swarm us.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any idea what would alert the controller?¡± the captain asked.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Ferris said, glancing over the room. The bugs were still calm, but who knew how long that would last?

    ¡°But they are able to see what the bugs see to an extent. Lady Crusch was certain of that. If a lot of them die at once, they might take notice. If they decide to check up on Melty, they¡¯re going to see us pretty quickly.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡± Daryl spoke up hesitantly. ¡°I have an idea, Sir Felix. They don¡¯t seem to be hostile at the moment, so maybe I could walk through them? Then I could grab the target and protect her, and kill the rest with a Fura?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s awfully risky,¡± the captain said. ¡°If they decide to attack while you¡¯re in there, we won¡¯t have a way to defend ourselves. And how will you protect the target when they¡¯re already on top of her?¡±

    ¡°I could use a wind screen to tear them off her,¡± Daryl responded. ¡°But if they decide to attack¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll do it,¡± Ferris decided.

    The two of them looked at him with wide eyes. ¡°Sir Felix? Do you have a plan?¡±

    ¡°If they attack us, I can keep the three of us healed enough to run, at least until we get upstairs. They¡¯ll be restrained by the doors if we close them behind us, so even if they swarm, we¡¯ll be able to get away.¡±

    He turned to the other soldiers they had brought down with them, and waved a hand towards the stairs.

    ¡°Go back up. I won¡¯t be able to heal all of us if it comes down to it.¡±

    He didn¡¯t need to tell them twice. They immediately moved to the stairs and began ascending.

    ¡°I see. Good plan,¡± the captain said, glancing back into the room.

    He hesitated, then sighed. ¡°I suppose I should go as well. I won¡¯t be of much help to you if the worst comes to worst. Daryl, will you be able to carry the target alone if it becomes necessary?¡±

    The Wind mage nodded. ¡°Yes, it shouldn¡¯t be a problem.¡±

    ¡°Very well then,¡± the captain said, then placed a hand on Daryl¡¯s shoulder. Ferris supposed it was supposed to look like a gesture of support, but he could see the captain lean in, and heard him whisper under his breath, ¡°Sir Felix is your first priority. Make sure he gets out alive.¡±

    Ferris took a breath to voice a disagreement¡ªafter all, with his healing magic, he would be able to keep himself alive long enough to get back to the others¡ªbut he let it go. Crusch had probably already given orders to that effect, and though he technically outranked them, it would be a bad look to go against her orders. He would just have to focus on getting them all out alive.

    The captain left, and the final duo waited for a minute, giving time for him to reach the top of the stairs.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Ferris asked.

    ¡°As ready as I¡¯ll ever be,¡± Daryl answered.

    He summoned up faint swirls of wind around his feet, and then slowly extended a foot into the room.

    The captain¡¯s hand had briefly entered the room to steal the beetle, but that had been so fast that it was unlikely that the insects would have registered it. This was the first time someone was entering the room properly, and Ferris remained tense, waiting for the bugs to react.

    But they made no major movements. As Daryl¡¯s foot came down, the wind gently brushed the bugs under his boot aside, clearing a small area.

    Then he took another step. And another.

    It took five steps to reach the middle of the room, where Melty still sat, silent and completely still.

    Daryl knelt down beside her, and extended both hands around her figure, ready to grab her and run.

    Then he whispered something, so quietly that even Ferris couldn¡¯t make it out. But he could make out its effects.

    The air whirled around Melty, and every bug crawling on her was violently thrown off, catapulted into the walls.

    Exactly as they had feared, the insects¡¯ behaviour instantly changed, unfurling their wings and charging at the mage and priestess.

    Daryl seized Melty and bolted, wind exploding around him to clear the path between him and the door.

    Ferris reached in to grab the door handle, and as the wind mage ran past, he slammed it closed.

    That would have been enough to stop a person, but the insects were too small to be stopped by such an obstacle. They crawled through the gap between the floor and the door, flying after Daryl as he ran.

    Ferris turned to chase after them, and then felt a prickling on his legs, then sudden pain.

    He instantly called upon his gate, circulating mana down to his legs, and he glanced down.

    Beetles had landed all over him, but it seemed some had managed to crawl up the trousers that were part of his knight uniform. He couldn¡¯t see them, but he could feel their jaws tearing through his skin.

    He bit back a hiss, and continued running, using his magic to tone down the pain he was feeling from them. He couldn¡¯t afford to be incapacitated by something as simple as pain at this point.

    He wasn¡¯t encumbered with extra weight, so he was able to catch up to Daryl on the stairwell.

    Before Ferris had even reached the wind mage¡¯s side, he had conjured a healing orb, and once he was within reach, he started shoving mana into the man, not bothering to try and direct it. It would be better to try and rely on the man¡¯s own body¡¯s judgement of what was important rather than get distracted with trying to figure out where he should heal first.

    It was a little more wasteful, but it allowed them both to keep running.

    ¡°She¡¯s been bitten as well,¡± Daryl ground out, his teeth clenched tightly. There were even more bugs crawling over him than there were on Ferris. His armour was doing something to help keep them off, but they were small, and more than capable of crawling under his protection.

    ¡°Can it wait?¡± Ferris asked, sending another surge of mana though his own body as he felt bites on his arms and hands.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Some of the spiders stayed on her, she¡¯s poisoned.¡±

    Ferris cursed and conjured a second healing orb with his other hand, extending another tendril of mana to try and keep their prisoner alive.

    Immediately after doing so, something felt¡­ wrong. The feedback he was getting from the magic he used on her was distorted. Something about how her internal mana flowed deviated from normal. But he didn¡¯t have time to dwell on things like that while running. He shoved mana through their connection and tried to direct it to the liver. That was the quickest way to try and alleviate poison.

    He saw light up ahead, and then they burst out into the hallway of the church proper.

    He heard a slam, and Ferris turned to see the captain shoving the door closed.

    Harold the earth mage shoved the air, and the stone under their feet cracked and lifted up, slamming into the portal and sealing even the smallest holes closed.

    Daryl stumbled to the ground, managing to lay Melty down, and then his mana surged.

    ¡°Fura!¡± he shouted, and the insects crawling over him were blown away, causing some of the soldiers to duck wildly to avoid them.

    Ferris himself had to use the far less dignified method of immobilising them one at a time with his magic, and picking them off his body. It was troublesome, but now that there wasn¡¯t a swarm chasing him, it was easy enough.

    Once he picked off the last of them and crushed it underfoot, he turned to look at their captive.

    Melty was laying on the floor, her eyes closed and her body tense, a trace of pain on her features. Ferris hadn¡¯t investigated the effects of the poisons she had been bitten with, but he had no doubt that it was painful.

    But first¡­

    ¡°Daryl, let me see you,¡± he said, reaching out for the wind mage.

    ¡°Sir Felix?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m fine, you¡¯ve already healed all the bites. I don¡¯t think I was poisoned either¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about that,¡± Ferris said, placing both hands onto his temples. ¡°You were close to her, she might have used her ability on you.¡±

    That caused the soldier to freeze, evidently he hadn¡¯t considered the possibility. It took a few moments for Ferris to spin up his spells and peer through the mage¡¯s head, then he nodded, satisfied.

    ¡°You¡¯re clear,¡± he said, finally turning his full attention to the priestess.

    He conjured a healing orb, and started sending tendrils of mana into her organs, focusing on the liver and heart, to try and remove the poisons.

    Once again, he was struck by a certain wrongness, an imbalance that he was unfamiliar with. It was like she was suffering from a rare disease, but it was unlike any that he had ever encountered.

    Is it her ability? he wondered as he purified the poison in her blood, and moved on to healing the damage it had already done.

    But as he moved on from her vital organs, he realised he was mistaken. Her mana flows were distorted for a very simple reason.

    Her stomach had been sealed shut.

    Or rather, her oesophagus had been, right behind her throat. There was an extra blob of flesh in the way, a growth that was far too tame and orderly to have been natural.

    And yet, it did not appear to have been formed by way of healing magic. There was too little interference with the surrounding flesh, too little discord in her body. Whoever had altered her body in such a way must have been a master water mage, equal to¡ªor perhaps exceeding¡ªFerris himself.

    That fact sent a shiver down his spine, but he tried to ignore it. Worrying about a phantom healer wasn¡¯t going to help them at this point. He would inform Fourier, and they would plan accordingly.

    Thus, he cleared out the last of the poison, and withdrew his hands.

    Melty¡¯s eyes blinked open, and she stared up at the ceiling. It seemed to take a moment for her to fully remember where she was, but when she did, she shivered, and curled her body up.

    ¡°Priestess Melty Pristis,¡± Ferris began, trying and failing to make his voice sound as authoritative as possible. He really should have left this part to the captain. But stopping now would ruin the effect, so he¡¯d just have to power through.

    ¡°You are suspected of being involved in the riots and disorder in this city. Do you have anything to say in your defence?¡±

    The priestess slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, and then looked up at Ferris, a flash of recognition going through her eyes.

    ¡°You¡­ you¡¯re one of the knights that was guarding the prince. The one I¡­¡±

    She broke off, her face going pale.

    ¡°You¡¯re¡ª You healed me! I ordered you not to! But how¡ª?¡±

    ¡°You used some kind of strange magic or divine protection to try and prevent me from doing so, didn¡¯t you?¡± Ferris asked. ¡°It¡¯s the same magic you¡¯ve been using to start the riots in the city, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Melty was shivering, shaking her head from side to side. ¡°No, no, no,¡± she repeated, her hands coming up to cover her face. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. It¡¯s not my fault!¡±

    Ferris listened to her ramblings for a moment, but it soon became clear that he¡¯d get nothing useful out of it. She seemed to be going into shock, so great was the mental distress she appeared to be in. He might have been able to use his healing magic to force some semblance of sanity on her, but altering the mind was risky, and they might lose access to everything she knew.

    He grit his teeth and knelt down, bringing his face closer to hers.

    ¡°Answer me. Why have you been acting against His Majesty? Who are you working with? What are you after?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± Melty denied instantly. She was quite obviously lying, but if she was going to be obstinate, getting information out of her was going to be a lot harder. They¡¯d likely need to bring in the help of the few torturer¡¯s in the kingdom¡¯s employ. But that would take time.

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡ª I wasn¡¯t¡ª¡± Melty continued, her breath ragged with fear.

    But it wasn¡¯t fear of Ferris or his soldiers, he noticed. If she had been afraid of them, she would keep her eyes locked onto them, and tried to cower down away from them.

    But she had her face in her hands, and she didn¡¯t flinch at the soft clinking of his soldier¡¯s armour as they moved.

    Which means¡­? Is she more afraid of her own side than she is of us?

    It seemed to match her words. She was insisting on her innocence, which was obviously false if she had intended the words for Ferris, but if she had been vocalising her inner thoughts, then perhaps she had been speaking the words she wanted to say to her ¡®allies¡¯.

    ¡°You needn¡¯t fear reprisal,¡± Ferris said, trying to speak loudly enough that he¡¯d pierce the fugue she was entering. He didn¡¯t want to have to resort to healing magic, but it looked like he might¡ª

    Melty¡¯s head snapped up, and her eyes locked onto his.

    Several emotions were warring on her face. Fear, desperation, anguish, just to name a few. Her body tensed, as if to launch herself at him, but Ferris¡¯s soldiers spotted the action long before she could try.

    They stepped in front of him, swords crossing between her and Ferris to block her path.

    Such a display should have been enough to cow her, given their estimation of her strength, but Ferris saw the way her eyes went to one of the soldiers. It wasn¡¯t a reflexive jolt of alarm, but a shifting of her target.

    ¡°Get back!¡± Ferris shouted, but Melty had already begun to move.

    She launched herself at the soldier, a blue orb materialising in her hand, reaching out for the soldier¡­

    Who promptly sidestepped, allowing Melty to go sailing past, stumbling and falling back to the floor, her magic winking out.

    Ferris blinked, slowly letting his arm fall back to his side. When he had seen the blue glow of a healing spell, he had instinctively spun up his own version to heal whatever damage she had intended to do, but it appeared that would be unnecessary.

    Melty lifted herself up, drops of blood dripping from her nose, tears of frustration streaming from her eyes.

    But she still had that look. Desperation, fear, and perhaps something else?

    No, Ferris was forced to admit to himself. He knew what that look was. He had seen it on his own face often enough, while he had been starting his daily routine and schooling his expression into neutrality, back when Fourier had been afflicted by the curse, when it looked like there wasn¡¯t any hope of saving him.

    It was despair.

    Melty readied herself to attack again, but before she could, Ferris reached out and forced a surge of healing magic though her, cutting her control of her limbs and causing her to slump back to the ground.

    She tried to fight off his control with her own magic, but her gate was pitiful in comparison to Ferris¡¯s. After a moment¡¯s struggle, she stopped, letting her head hang.

    Ferris knelt by her side, watching out for any more tricks she tried to pull, but his mind was turning everything he knew over, trying to figure her out.

    She was outmatched, and she knew it, but she still tried to attack us. So¡­ perhaps she doesn¡¯t want to be captured alive? It can¡¯t be that she¡¯s afraid of torture, can it? If it was that, she¡¯d be talking now to try and avoid it. Perhaps she¡¯s not confident we can protect her from her allies?

    ¡°Hey¡­ Sir knight?¡± Melty asked, her voice tinged with defeat, speaking so softly that he doubted anyone else would be able to make it out.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    Melty hesitated, the few parts of her body that she still had control of tensing up as she reconsidered, but after a moment, that tension left her, and she brought her head up to meet Ferris¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°My family are hostages,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re being held, and if I mess up, they¡¯re going to be¡­ they¡¯re going to¡­¡±

    She shivered, hurrying on, seemingly in an effort to avoid thinking about it. ¡°If you¡¯ve found me, that means I¡¯ve already failed. I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t let them be hurt! So¡­¡±

    She trailed off, struggling to find words. Her lips trembled, and she finally asked, ¡°Please help me.¡±

    Ferris remained silent for a moment. Part of him felt she was just making excuses for her actions, but¡­ She wasn¡¯t asking for forgiveness. She wasn¡¯t trying to avoid punishment. She was turning to the last option available to her, the ones who had been her enemies, and asking for help.

    As one of Fourier¡¯s knights, he could only answer that request in one way.

    ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°We will rescue them.¡±

    ¡°I can help you as well,¡± Melty continued. ¡°I can tell you about their plans, and I can disable my Evil Eye, I can¡­¡±

    She paused, then blinked, eyes refocusing on Ferris.

    ¡°...what?¡±

    ¡°We will rescue them,¡± Ferris repeated. ¡°His Majesty, King Fourier, would never let innocent people suffer as captives. So long as he reigns, Lugunica will always offer aid to the downtrodden.¡±

    Melty gaped up at him, a look of disbelief on her face, which slowly was replaced by hope.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she let out softly.

    She looked down, eyes landing on her hands, which lay immobilised on her lap.

    ¡°Can I have my hands back?¡± she asked.

    Ferris felt himself bristling at the request, unsure if she was going to try and attack again¡­ but Fourier would want him to trust her.

    He held back a sigh. His king was a very troublesome individual.

    With an extended hand, and undid the effect of his magic, returning full control of her body.

    It took a moment for the magic to wear off, and when it did, Melty lifted her hands so she could look at her palms. She stared at them for a moment, then let them drop, some of the strength seeming to leave her body.

    Ferris drew back. He couldn¡¯t sense that she had done anything, but given the way her ability had worked before, that was no indication of anything.

    ¡°What did you do?¡± he asked, simultaneously spinning up an investigation spell. A quick flurry of needles into his own mind indicated he wasn¡¯t under the effects of her ability, but perhaps she had¡ª

    ¡°I let them go,¡± Melty said quietly. She let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh, as if she couldn¡¯t quite believe her own actions.

    ¡°You¡­ what?¡±

    ¡°I let them go,¡± Melty repeated. ¡°Everyone I¡¯ve used my ability on, in this city, in this country, across the entire world. I¡¯ve let them go.¡±

    Ferris blinked, at first not fully grasping her words, his eyes slowly widening as he took them in.

    ¡°You mean¡­ you¡¯ve ended the riots? Just like that?¡±

    Ferris had hoped that they would be able to cut off their enemy¡¯s mind control by finding Melty, but a part of him had feared that they were going to have to cure the victims one at a time.

    ¡°No,¡± Melty said with a shake of her head. ¡°While I had control of well over a thousand people, the riot has spread to the entire city. Even now that my Evil Eye of Indoctrination has no hold on them, the riot will keep going for some time.¡±

    Evil Eye?

    That name stirred some memories in Ferris¡¯s head, but he couldn¡¯t recall much. They were a demi-human tribe from Vollachia, weren¡¯t they? With abilities so terrifying and unnatural that the Empire had worked to wipe them all out.

    Clearly, they hadn¡¯t succeeded.

    Melty didn¡¯t seem to notice Ferris¡¯s thoughts.

    Closing her eyes, her smile twisted, becoming bitter as she continued.

    ¡°Now that I¡¯ve let them go, most of the instigators will back down and if the people handling the riot are anything like you, I have little doubt that they¡¯ll manage to reassure the people. Deep down, most of them don¡¯t really blame the prince, they¡¯re just scared.¡±

    If she was claiming to have released all of her victims, there remained at least one easy way to test it, but targeting those further away would be more difficult meaning she could have only released those close.

    Still¡­

    ¡°Captain, can you watch her for a minute? I need to check on our prisoners.¡± Ferris said, already turning and running away. Reaching the nearest one, he quickly examined him for the foreign mana, and found it dispersing naturally, as it came apart at the seams.

    At this rate of decay, the mana should clear out completely in minutes, meaning he shouldn¡¯t have to worry about her re-establishing her control.

    Running back, he gestured towards the captain who shrugged, and waved over one of the soldiers, who handed him the squad¡¯s conversing mirror.

    He stepped away from the group to try and report back to Crusch¡¯s forces. If what Melty had done had affected the entire city, then they¡¯d know soon. It would also be best if Crusch was aware of the possibility, so she could take advantage of the situation when the rioters started dispersing across the city.

    Ferris turned back to Melty, and after a moment¡¯s hesitation, extended a hand to help her to her feet. He wouldn¡¯t trust her enough to let her get near any of his soldiers¡ªthere was still the possibility that her words and actions were just a ploy¡ªbut he was confident that he would be able to resist any magic she used on him, now that he knew what to expect.

    Melty didn¡¯t seem to notice his internal wariness. She took his proffered hand, and lifted herself off the ground.

    ¡°Sir Felix, I¡¯ve reported our findings here,¡± the captain said, striding back to the group. ¡°Lady Crusch is currently fighting, so I was not able to speak to her directly, but I¡¯ve been assured she¡¯ll know soon. The swarms are out in force, but they¡¯re not managing to get past our mages.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Ferris responded. ¡°We¡¯ll return to our designated area, and help calm things down.¡±

    He turned to Melty. ¡°You can tell us more about the assassin on the way¡­¡±

    But Melty wasn¡¯t listening. She was looking at the captain, her brow tense.

    ¡°You¡­ you do know that finishing off the Royal Family was our primary objective?¡± she asked. ¡°Our only objective, really.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we understand that,¡± Ferris said, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. It wasn¡¯t pleasant to think of all the effort their enemies were expending just to kill Fourier. ¡°Are you saying this attack on the city is just a distraction? Like the fire was? We¡¯ve already taken precautions for that. His Majesty is being protected by our Finest Knight.¡±

    Melty remained silent for a moment, then said, ¡°Finest¡­ you mean the one that fought Elsa? She was supposed to kill the Prince then, but she failed. I didn¡¯t think she was going to be relied on anymore¡­¡±

    She trailed off, then looked back at Ferris.

    ¡°What about the Mana Wasps? Where are they?¡±

    Ferris tilted his head. ¡°Mana Wasps?¡±

    Melty hesitated. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s what they¡¯re named. They¡¯re special insects, created to fight people. They¡¯re a lot more responsive than regular insects, and a lot tougher. Normal mages won¡¯t be able to fight off swarms of them.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ they¡¯re an elite force of insects?¡± Ferris asked, feeling a chill go down his back. He flicked his head to the captain, who nodded and raised the mirror again.

    ¡°We¡¯ll keep an eye out for them,¡± he continued. ¡°But so far our mages have been able to keep the swarms at bay.¡±

    Melty shook her head. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think they¡¯re going to be used against the city. They¡¯re her best forces, she isn¡¯t going to leave them behind.¡±

    ¡°She?¡± Ferris asked, but Melty seemed not to hear him, her eyes staring right through him as her mind whirred.

    ¡°...there are other knights guarding the Prince, aren¡¯t there?¡± she asked. ¡°Not just the Finest Knight, who Elsa is going after, but other knights who could defend him?¡±

    Ferris nodded. ¡°Of course. We wouldn¡¯t risk leaving him unguarded.¡±

    Her eyes refocused on him, and her uneasiness had grown somewhat more frantic.

    ¡°Then, what¡¯s the plan for the wasps? How will you defend him from them?¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡± Ferris let out, taken aback by her sudden forcefulness. ¡°There are several knights who can use magic, they¡¯ll be able to stop them from getting close¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Melty shook her head. ¡°Some will get through! Some will get to him! How are you going to protect him from that?¡±

    Ferris hesitated. ¡°...if it¡¯s only a few, then the healers will be able to keep him safe¡­¡±

    He trailed off as he watched Melty¡¯s face go pale.

    ¡°You¡­ you don¡¯t know,¡± she said. ¡°You haven¡¯t seen them¡­ that must be why she brought him. She didn¡¯t want you to know about¡­¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± Ferris asked. ¡°Who are you talking about?¡±

    But whoever Melty was talking about, she didn¡¯t seem to think clarifying was the most important part of what she was saying.

    ¡°Wasps usually carry poison, but the Mana Wasps are different. They can carry any liquid to use for injection.¡±

    ¡°...like¡­ a stronger poison?¡± Ferris asked.

    Melty shook her head. ¡°No, like blood!¡±

    Blood?

    The thought of a swarm of insects fighting through the palace just to try and give Fourier a blood transfusion would have been an amusing thought as a hypothetical, but it was anything but with how desperate Melty looked.

    And there was something else as well. A chill in Ferris¡¯s bones, the way his breath was picking up as he thought of the significance of blood being used as a weapon.

    Who else did he know who had used blood to bring harm? Who had shown him the true face of the most disgusting of magics?

    Unbidden, the image of a small mewling kitten¡ªcovered in splotches of red¡ªrose to his mind.

    ¡°She¡¯s going to curse him!¡± Melty cried out with growing hysteria. ¡°You know about the curses, don¡¯t you!? That¡¯s her goal!¡±

    It took a moment for Melty¡¯s words to register. They were so horrible, he didn¡¯t want to accept them.

    But once he did, he turned on the spot, and started running.

 A Tempest of Blades and Curses

    A deafening symphony of buzzing filled the air, as millions of insects swarmed in a relentless tide, their collective noise carrying for miles.

    Yet, above this discord, a mightier sound emerged¡ªthe roaring howl of the wind.

    A tempest of merged wind spells brewed in the sky, a furious storm that stretched as far as the eye could see.

    Though the magic was spread thin, it proved devastating against the insect horde, tearing through their ranks with merciless force.

    At the forefront, Crusch wielded her blade manipulating the currents of the wind and guiding her allies.

    As she commanded the storm, pockets of wind formed to enhance the flames cast by fellow mages, transforming portions of the sky into a blazing inferno.

    The exertion was evident, sweat streaming down her body, but she stood resolute, even as the minutes wore on.

    Each swing of her blade, normally swift and precise, now carried the weight of exhaustion, causing her movements to slow, as she grappled with the immense responsibility of controlling the tempest.

    Yet, Crusch fought on, determined to dispel any doubts that threatened to cloud her mind. She pushed herself to the brink, aware that their enemy couldn''t sustain this assault indefinitely, though she couldn''t recall where she had acquired that knowledge.

    Moments of respite were rare, but when a scout reported the completion of the shelters, Crusch allowed herself a brief pause, focusing on regulating her overtaxed mana and simply breathing.

    ¡°If the food supplies and people have been moved to safety,¡± she commanded, her eyes fixed on the swarm-filled sky, "it is time for some of us to advance into the enemy forces.¡±

    Lowering her gaze, she met the eyes of each of her commanders, before continuing.

    ¡°We''ll leave behind our most skilled mages, those adept at combining their affinities, to hasten the insects'' demise. But if casualties are no longer a significant concern, we must hurry, for our foes undoubtedly march toward their unknown destination even now."

    ¡°My lady, are you certain it''s wise to confront our enemies in our current state?¡± one of her aides questioned, a crease of worry furrowing his brow. ¡°Our forces are thoroughly exhausted, and while you would be taking the least fatigued among us, even they were required to rotate in and out. If you believe that you will be facing close quarters, we do have some of our more distinguished soldiers relatively fresh, but even so I do not believe it would be enough to match someone who would organise all of this.¡±

    Hesitating for a moment the aide continued, as his eyes locked onto Crusch¡¯s blade.

    ¡°All of that isn¡¯t even isn¡¯t touching on your current state, I do not believe I have ever seen your blade shake before in my life. If we could regroup with the division you sent to shepherd Sir Ferris, then we¡¯d have a far greater odds of success.¡±

    ¡°You make valid points,¡± Crusch admitted, summoning her willpower to steady her trembling blade, aware that while she could suppress the symptoms, her body neared its limit.

    ¡°However, the division accompanying Ferris is tasked with an equally important mission, one that I have little doubt will take a toll on their own strength as well. It is best we attend our current objective with the forces we can spare. If nothing else, our initiative may catch our enemy off guard. Considering just how much our foes have committed, any objective they are focused on now may well be worth our lives.¡±

    Crusch''s words hung heavy in the air, her unwavering determination piercing the hearts of the division leaders present. Soldiers straightened their postures, voices rose in the clamour as they sought to decide who would accompany her.

    Amber eyes locked onto a lone insect hovering amidst the swarm, emanating a distinct Wind that only she could perceive. In that instant, both parties understood that they were aware of each other''s presence and that only one side would emerge victorious.

    "We''re coming for you!" Crusch declared, her final swing of the sword obliterating the spying insect, and without hesitation started to march forward.

    A contingent of soldiers joined her, and at a glance she could tell that while many were exhausted, the wind blowing furiously around them showed their resolve. Together they marched forward, expressions grim as they studied their surroundings for any hidden insects.

    For several minutes they moved in silence, accompanied by a growing air of tension.

    Then one of her soldiers shouted a warning, and the chaos began anew.

    A wave of arrows rapidly approached them, easily numbering in the hundreds, an attack that could easily spell the doom of them all.

    Gritting her teeth, Crusch let her mana surge out of her gate in a fierce gust that forced the arrows downwards.

    ¡°Find cover!¡± Crusch shouted, even as she led by example and rushed towards a wall. ¡°That was likely only the first volley!¡±

    Sure enough, a second storm of arrows soon approached, but with the time Crusch had bought her soldiers had each found cover and the storm of arrows failed to bring any down, and even allowed them to cautiously advance.

    After a third volley that failed to take down her soldiers, the arrows rapidly diminished, soon becoming only an occasional barrage and in far fewer numbers.

    But as they drew closer, Crusch furrowed her brows, because from here she could see that her soldiers were outnumbered four to one, and worse yet if these soldiers had been left behind then it was clear their objective laid beyond here.

    ¡°Lady Crusch,¡± one of her captains murmured, drawing her attention. ¡°Based on the formation, it appears we¡¯ll need to leave the bulk of our forces here to fight the enemy combatants. It would be best to send one of our fastest units forward alone if possible but¡­¡±

    ¡°You''re correct,¡± Crusch said, smiling lightly. ¡°I¡¯ll do it myself.¡±

    ¡°Lady Crusch, I say this with all due respect,¡± the captain began, straining to look her in the eye. ¡°But while it would be a lie to say any of us are fresh, you are one of our most taxed soldiers right now, not to mention that you are amongst our most valuable assets. Just having you here inspires us to fight harder, sending you alone would be¡­¡±

    ¡°You''re not wrong,¡± Crusch admitted. ¡°But it just has to be framed correctly. You¡¯ll all just have to fight harder to rejoin me.¡±

    Despite her words, Crusch allowed herself to fall back, doing her best to preserve her energy, and it wasn¡¯t until her soldiers crashed into her enemies that she forced herself to start sprinting, leaving the combat behind.

    Once she was beyond the range of the enemy bows, she slowed, maintaining a running pace. She was still pushing herself to speeds none of her soldiers would be able to keep up with.

    As the minutes passed on, her eyes caught the cloaked forms of three figures in front of her, two protectively flanking the third.

    One seemed to hear something, and glanced back at her, their face obscured by the shadow of their cloak.

    They shouted a warning, and the three of them looked back at her.

    The cloaked figure that was in the centre of the formation turned away instantly, and sped up, sprinting towards the centre of the city, but the other two stopped completely, then charged at Crusch.

    She slowed, readying her blade into a combat stance, one designed to stop a charge.

    Her only warning that it was a mistake was the faint pattering of footsteps.

    She spun around and parried, deflecting the blade that had been aimed at her back, her foot lifting off the ground to deliver a powerful kick that sent the hidden fourth cloaked figure stumbling backward. Utilising the momentum, she launched herself around, crashing into both the charging combatants with a forceful impact.

    The two stumbled back, and Crusch darted to the side, where she could see all three of the assailants.

    ¡°Assassins,¡± Crusch murmured. It wasn¡¯t the first time she¡¯d fought against this sort of fighting style, but these three seemed more skilled than she was familiar with. At her current level of fatigue she¡¯d need to be careful if she wanted to prevail.

    The trio regrouped in front of her, clearly resolved to prevent her from going after their leader.

    Stepping forward, she knew that unleashing her signature technique would be the key to ending the battle as fast as possible. Extending her blade, she could feel the wind responding to her command, coiling around her weapon as she poured mana into the strike. This was the moment that would determine the outcome.

    With a burst of wind, the trio were scattered, creating a clear opening for Crusch to strike at their fleeing leader. She swung her blade, but her instincts screamed at her to abort the attack. Reacting swiftly, she gritted her teeth and released the technique prematurely, using the wind to propel herself into a graceful tumble, narrowly avoiding having her arm severed, as she once more avoided the assassin¡¯s blade. Despite the unbalanced state, she desperately hoped that her strike had found its mark.

    The invisible blade came agonisingly close, tearing through the leader¡¯s cloak in an instant, but it failed to draw more than a trickle of blood and a flash of purple hair.

    "Sakura?" Crusch whispered, her mind rapidly assembling the puzzle pieces. However, the revelation did little to alleviate her predicament as the three assassins once again charged towards her, their determination unyielding.

    The woman who had once identified herself as treasurer spared Crusch a wicked smile before continuing to sprint away, leaving the Karsten heir to fight for her life.

    <hr>

    Once again, Ferris found himself racing against time, desperately trying to prevent the imminent death of one of his closest friends, this time from a curse that had lost its need for subtlety, and worse yet he wasn¡¯t even by his side.

    His body strained as he pushed his limits, healing torn muscles on the go, but deep down, he knew that his efforts might not be enough. It was a race against the clock, and the odds were not in his favour.

    However, just as despair threatened to consume him, a glimmer of hope appeared before his eyes. Roswaal K Mathers seemed to materialise out of thin air on the road in front of him, as he deactivated the magics imbued in his cloak.

    Ferris couldn''t help but feel a surge of relief, tears welling up in his eyes, hurriedly arresting his legs and skidding to a stop.

    ¡°Ferris,¡± Roswaal greeted with a nod. ¡°I had heard that you had located the potential cause of our rash of traitors, and was planning to give you my aid, but from the look of it, things have become even worse, correct?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll explain as we move,¡± Ferris replied, a giddy smile playing on his lips as he tore off again, his determination renewed.

    He heard a faint noise of surprise from Roswaal, before his teacher launched himself forward as well.

    ¡°It was a mind control technique, making people act out of turn. It won¡¯t be a problem anymore,¡± Ferris said, allowing the uncertainty he felt at the abrupt change to creep in. ¡°The person with the ability to do so was being coerced into helping, with her family being held hostage. In return for rescuing them, she¡¯s fully released her hold on anybody she ever controlled. I checked and it seems she did undo it.¡±

    He shook his head, pushing his lingering distrust of her away.

    ¡°More importantly, she¡¯s also informed us that Fourier is going to be cursed soon and that the insect swarm is just a distraction!¡±

    ¡°Have you had the opportunity to independently confirm that these people are free of brainwashing, and not simply temporarily allowing a reprieve?¡± Roswaal questioned calmly.

    For several long seconds Ferris was silent, before Roswaal once more broke the silence.

    ¡°I trust your judgement in people, Ferris, as your mentor you have never given me reason to doubt you. If you have faith that this person genuinely released the victims, and that the threat to His Majesty is real, then I too will do the same. How can I help?¡±

    ¡°Teacher,¡± Ferris whispered, his eyes watering slightly, but he shook his emotion off and continued. ¡°You and I are the only ones able to break any powerful curses, especially since I don¡¯t believe Julius is with Fourier if all is going according to plan. We need to arrive at the Palace at the fastest pace we possibly can.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± Roswaal said. ¡°Sadly, Clind is busy with other matters, so I am alone at the moment. I would offer to carry you to increase our pace, but these old arms of mine would struggle even with someone as slender as you.¡±

    ¡°We are still going faster than most soldiers,¡± Ferris said, trying to make sense of their pace.

    As if sensing his thoughts, Roswaal offered, ¡°We should arrive in approximately fifteen minutes, provided there are no delays.¡±

    Ferris nodded, saying no more.

    He emptied his mind, focusing solely on putting one foot in front of the other, trusting the older man to keep a lookout for their surroundings as he focused on forcing his legs to move with as much speed as his body could muster.

    A trust that was rewarded when the elderly man grabbed Ferris and dove to the right, Ferris barely making out the flash of a set of claws that would have disembowelled the both of them.

    ¡°The dirty fighter likes to interfere with our kills, doesn¡¯t he!¡± hissed the Witch Cult Archbishop standing from the crater he had punched into the ground. A crater located exactly where Ferris had just been.

    Ferris''s skin tingled with unease as he watched the Sin Archbishop rise to his full height. His voice trembled as he turned to his teacher, seeking a glimmer of hope amidst the impending danger.

    ¡°Teacher, is there any chance we can get away?¡± Ferris whispered, ears flat against his skull as he stared at the twisted form before him.

    ¡°At this juncture, it is rather unlikely,¡± Roswaal said, eyes calculating as he seemed to consider several possibilities, before finally speaking. ¡°Unlike before, it would appear that we are now his main targets.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Gluttony crowed, his smile spreading freakishly wide. ¡°We know all too well your true name! Roswaal K Matthers the Court Mage, that dirty cloak of yours won¡¯t hide you any longer! In fact, we¡¯ll enjoy consuming the both of you.¡±

    ¡°Yet you seem more hesitant to attack us than before, I take it your main goal is to slow us down, and that our deaths would be but a benefit?¡± Roswaal said, yellow eye piercing into his smaller enemy, who twitched, before grinning even wider.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know how you know, but it¡¯s not as if knowing will help you,¡± Gluttony said, stalking slowly forward ready for another one of Roswaal¡¯s metias.

    ¡°Ferris, I¡¯m afraid this may be our final goodbye,¡± Roswaal spoke in a hushed tone. ¡°One of us must distract him for the other to get away, and as the far more prominent fighter, as well as your teacher, that role must fall to me.¡±

    A pallor washed over Ferris''s face. "I can''t!" he cried out desperately. "What if I can''t save Fourier on my own? What if my presence here could help save your life, Teacher?"

    ¡°With or without me, I truly believe that you¡¯ll be able to save his highness,¡± Roswaal said, allowing his yellow eye to close as the blue seemed to drink in the sight of the shaking boy.

    ¡°You have grown much. And if it¡¯s for the sake of your best friend, I have no doubt that you¡¯ll be able to surpass me as well as yourself for him. When I made you my student, I never had the slightest doubt that the day would come when you¡¯d do so. But even I underestimated how proud I¡¯d feel to truly be able to share some of my magical knowledge, and more importantly to just be your Teacher.¡±

    "If my final act can pave the way for the bright future I believe the two of you will create, I can face Gluttony without hesitation. So please, Ferris, do not shed tears," Roswaal implored, his voice filled with a rare vulnerability.

    Nodding Ferris forced his magic to move reluctantly through his body, turning up the adrenaline as he prepared to leave.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell the others, so Teacher¡­ if you can survive long enough, help will definitely¡­¡± Ferris began, a rare hint of vulnerability in his voice.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best. And who knows, perhaps I¡¯ll even be able to defeat Gluttony before anyone can arrive?¡± Roswaal said with a smile. ¡°Now go, Ferris, and save your best friend.¡±

    With determination etched on his face, Ferris turned around and propelled himself into a sprint, doing his best to shut out the imminent confrontation as he refocused his attention on the task at hand.

    <hr>

    "I must say, I''m pleasantly surprised that you''re willing to grant Ferris even a slight head start. I suppose I should express my gratitude," Roswaal remarked, his mismatched eyes studying the apparent youth standing before him.

    ¡°Who are we to stop you from making a mistake?¡± Gluttony replied with amusement, tilting his head to the side. ¡°While we think it¡¯s surprising a mage like yourself would volunteer to go first, you seem to be overestimating yourself if you think you can hold us back alone for long. This time we know your tricks, and we know your name.¡±

    Gluttony chuckled and brought a hand up to wipe away the drool that had begun to form at the corner of his mouth.

    ¡°Poor little Ferris will be all the more easy to consume alone, and it may even lead to a more delicious meal. All sending him away accomplished is making it easier to take you each out.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Roswaal allowed, stepping forward as for the first time his posture shifted into a more aggressive stance. ¡°Or perhaps it is you who is underestimating Lugunica, and it is I who will claim this victory.¡±

    ¡°We must admit your martial arts are impressive for someone as old as you, the time that you must have spent perfecting it¡­ Ah, the taste will be exquisite,¡± Gluttony said, his eyes briefly losing focus.

    In that fleeting moment, the elderly man surged forward, covering the dozens of yards between them in less than a second. He became a blur of motion, a sight that would have astonished any bystander. But to Gluttony, such a tactic was easily anticipated, and he simply leaned to the side, raising his blade to skewer the charging man.

    Yet, Gluttony had failed to anticipate one crucial detail.

    Roswaal K Mathers was Lugunica''s Court Magician, and no matter how deeply he delved into the art of combat, that fundamental fact would never change. As he closed in, Roswaal opened his clenched fist to reveal another one of the metias he had employed during their initial confrontation.

    With no time to evade, the metia crashed directly into the Witch Cultist, engulfing him in a blazing inferno. The flames surged outward, threatening to consume everything in their path. However, Roswaal''s prized cloak came to his aid, offering its protection against the onslaught.

    Without the cloak''s assistance, such a daring move would have spelled certain doom. But with its aid, even a raging conflagration was reduced to a mere warmth pressing against him. It should have incinerated anyone unprepared within seconds, but Roswaal knew all too well that someone who had attained the title of a Sin Archbishop would never be ordinary.

    With that knowledge in mind, he carefully monitored the blaze, swiftly circulating his mana¡ªhis lifeforce¡ªthroughout his body. It was this rapid manipulation of his magical energy that saved him from the flames'' lethal grasp.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Erupting from the very ground itself, hooked blades hungrily sought out Roswaal''s flesh. With a deft manoeuvre, the older man narrowly avoided being skewered, turning what could have been a fatal blow into a mere graze.

    For an ordinary knight, even a mere graze to the artery could quickly prove fatal. In this case, he had less than half a minute before succumbing to unconsciousness due to severe blood loss. Death would soon follow if he failed to staunch the bleeding in time.

    However if the Finest Knight had managed to cauterise such a wound, for the Court Mage of Lugunica to do the same would be expected.

    Many however would be shocked to see the speed at which the heat perfectly centred itself on the wound itself, the heat not spreading an inch as the older man exhibited precise control over his mana, allowing only a few drops of blood to escape the now blackened area.

    ¡°It hurts?! Why does it hurt?¡± Gluttony shouted, clutching his ankle in shock while gazing at Roswaal, who stood tall, his smile darkening.

    ¡°On to round two then. While not my preferred method, it feels only fitting to handle you like this, but you¡¯ll find it isn¡¯t my only trick.¡±

    Reaching into his now tattered cloak, he pulled out a heavily modified sling-shot, and with a pulse of mana, tiny metias in the shape of orbs shot out by the dozens, each of which would explode on contact.

    Down a leg, and with little way to dodge, even the skills Gluttony had previously shown should have been overwhelmed. Yet if Roswaal had been hiding tricks, then so had Gluttony, as with a muttered curse, his claws tore through the air as they deflected the orbs one by one.

    Roswaal continued to fire, but it seemed as though Gluttony was always one step ahead, dodging and deflecting every projectile with a grace any martial artist would envy.

    However, Roswaal had prepared for this very scenario, ensuring his slingshot possessed enough ammunition to sustain the onslaught for minutes¡ªprecious time that Gluttony was squandering, evident in the growing panic etched on the youth''s face.

    Despite flawlessly deflecting the barrage, the injured youth abandoned his defence and launched himself through the hail of orbs, only attempting to evade the deadliest shots. Each explosion slowed him down, leaving him singed and blackened. Nevertheless, the slim figure of the Witch Cultist pressed forward with unwavering determination, even as he left behind a bloody trail.

    "Finally!" Gluttony exclaimed, his smile widening, but his expression twisted with anger as his blades passed through Roswaal without any impact.

    Snarling, the boy tried to recover but mid-air and down a leg, even his stolen skills failed to be enough as a flurry of daggers slammed into him, each coated with not only the strongest poisons Roswaal had previously created, but his own blood as well.

    Linked in such a way it was easy to allow the sympathetic curse he¡¯d first placed on Gluttony to spread and mutate, as he manipulated the mana he¡¯d left in his blood, turning it into something that could rival even the greatest of curses.

    Gluttony stumbled, his movements becoming sluggish as he tried to fight off the effects, but it was no use.

    ¡°Mama,¡± whispered the child, before anger twisted his face into a fearsome menace that few could withstand. Yet when his eyes met Roswaal''s gaze, the Court Mage smiled.

    ¡°One more round,¡± Roswaal promised. ¡°But this time, I¡¯ll be deciding the venue.¡±

    Closing his eyes, Roswaal allowed his focus to drift towards the curse entirely as he abandoned his flesh and dove into his gate.

    <hr>

    As Roswaal opened his mental senses, he could feel his creation attempting to crush the foul power that the Sin Archbishop had accumulated over the years. Here in their souls, both of the masks their body wore ceased to matter.

    To dive into someone else¡¯s gate required great skill and a powerful connection, typically achieved through powerful healing spells. Such gentle magic would forever be beyond Roswaal''s grasp. However, he had devised an alternative method, albeit one steeped in malevolence that even he found discomforting to employ.

    Curses could be made to tie people together in a similar way to healing, and he¡¯d based the idea off from the bond a ulgarm formed with those they harmed. Utilising his own blood which even now was tied to him as the catalyst to the curse, he¡¯d used it as an entry point to invade his enemy¡¯s body.

    Taking a glance at his arms, he saw hands devoid of the makeup he favoured but which had regained the power of their youth. Allowing a smile to spread across his lips, the man whose eyes had darkened to show only two yellow orbs stalked forward.

    This battlefield may have strengthened the Archbishop, but it had done the same for him, and he knew it far more intimately than any Witch Cultist ever would.

    As he drew nearer, he slowed his approach in order to study the appearance his adversary had taken.

    A sphere far larger than any man filled with a dazzling array of colours that rapidly swirled around, just gazing it at filled Roswaal with a strange sense of yearning, one that wasn¡¯t purely mental, as when he tore his gaze away, he saw that his prized cloak was slowly being pulled in its direction.

    Releasing a slow breath, he centred himself and refocused on the sphere. Glancing at the dizzying lights for more than a few seconds threatened to pull him under, and he felt foreign memories blossom in his mind.

    He saw flashes of a dark-haired woman with a stern expression, wielding a sword in a battlefield. He felt the weight of armour and the smell of blood. He saw a young boy with blue hair, studying magic in a library. He heard the sounds of pages turning and ink scratching on parchment. He saw a group of travellers walking through a dense forest, trying to evade dangerous creatures. He felt the rush of wind and the rustling of leaves. He saw a tall man with a scarred face, standing in front of a burning village. He heard the screams of women and children and smelled the smoke. He saw a white haired woman with a dark dress, conducting experiments in a laboratory. He felt the hum of unusual metias and the smell of chemicals.

    Feeling his reformed muscles give way, the man instinctively wrapped himself in a barrier of protective magic that barely prevented him from hitting the ground.

    Was he Roswaal, or was he someone else entirely? The memories were so vivid, and they felt like they were his own, and he knew that if he kept looking, their entire lives would unfold in his head, indistinguishable from his own.

    Tearing his eyes away from the sphere his eyes shot towards his arms, only to witness in horror that his arms were changing, warping before his eyes, as if their very foundation had been corrupted.

    Although even as he stared, he could see the corruption losing to his own existence as his greater amount of memories and the reassuring feeling of his affinities asserted their existence. Yet to think he¡¯d suffered this much corruption at a glance. Was it even safe for him to get closer to his foe like this?

    Closing his eyes, Roswaal allowed the gentle tugging of his cloak to draw him closer, while his most important memories consumed his thoughts. In this ethereal landscape, compelled to assume the form that resonated most with his soul, his memories felt achingly tangible. It seemed as though he could slip into them and relive those moments if he simply halted and immersed himself.

    However, succumbing to such illusions would mean denying the truth¡ªa truth he had long accepted. His identity itself could crumble, but one unwavering reality remained.

    "Even this soul of mine is but a tool for my dream," he murmured, pressing a hand against his chest. Retrieving a slim black book, he held it before his gaze, contemplating it silently.

    The book was his most prized possession, and he needed its curse to reach its maximum potency. The prospect of damage within this realm held no consequence in the material world.

    Hesitating for a moment, Roswaal tightened his grip on the book and allowed his most potent curses to envelop it, extending the curse''s influence to himself as well. If he couldn''t trust in his future self, then he must bind it so that it had no choice but to follow his will. With utmost care, he allowed the curse to settle, despite the spikes of agony they induced as the chains of mental control took hold.

    The time had come to bring this battle to an end.

    Standing before the sphere once more, he opened his eyes, determined to ignore the tidal wave of memories crashing upon him.

    If his previous strategy had relied on outlasting his adversary, such an approach would be foolish now that he faced memories of exponentially greater magnitude.

    The mere eleven lifetimes he possessed paled in comparison to the tens of thousands consumed by the power of Gluttony.

    We are¡­ we must find the one who devoured us.

    At that thought, its eyes pierced through the veil that obscured its depths, revealing a thick plane of transparent glass within. And within that plane, it glimpsed the figure responsible for igniting this conflict.

    We must¡­

    The figure slumped, body starting to dissolve as its identity was finally crushed under the weight of the memories.

    <hr>

    A gleeful smile curled upon Roy''s lips as he beheld the stumbling figure before him, barely recognizable as a man. Features that once defined him had been erased, leaving a pitiful form that now faced imminent danger, oblivious to the impending doom it had summoned upon itself.

    How foolish the interloper had been, so self-confident in his attack within this world of memories. He must have believed that his mere comfort within this realm made him special. But little did he know, Roy''s connection to this world ran much deeper. He had been born here, shaped by its essence to become its most formidable predator.

    Such thoughts raced through Roy''s mind, fueled by a childlike instinct and an overwhelming sense of superiority. He revelled in the impending triumph, savouring the innate advantage he held over this unsuspecting intruder.

    Within Roy''s racing thoughts, a spark of surprise and excitement ignited as he pondered the existence of a magic that could bind two individuals within this realm. The prospect of such power intrigued him, and he eagerly anticipated sharing the discovery with his brother. Together, perhaps they could harness this magic and find a way to reunite with their long-lost sister. The mere thought filled him with a sense of childlike wonder and endless possibilities.

    However, his musings were abruptly shattered as the figure lurched towards him, causing his heart to skip a beat. Roy instinctively recoiled, taking a step back, his narrowed eyes fixed upon his approaching adversary. Dark energy exuded from the featureless creation, its core centred around a small black book affixed to the figure''s chest. Dark chains materialised, sinuously snaking around each limb.

    An unsettling shiver coursed through Roy as he realised that he must not allow those chains to make contact. Their mere presence set his teeth on edge as he glared at the encroaching darkness. He couldn''t comprehend how Roswaal managed to remain standing, but he would rectify that now.

    With a thought, he released a relentless assault of memories, a torrential onslaught from countless stolen lives. Each memory was vastly different from the others, ensuring that none could bind themselves in sympathy. Each memory fought for dominance within the mind of his target, unleashing a chaotic clash within the depths of his opponent''s consciousness.

    Yet to his horror, the figure pressed on, unfazed by the torment unleashed upon it. With a swift motion, it swung its arm, propelling a chain of darkness toward Roy. Even as he hurled himself backward, he perceived the very air growing dim in the chain''s vicinity, intensifying his sense of trepidation.

    The chain''s sinister nature became all the more apparent as it split apart, multiplying relentlessly while Roy desperately evaded its grasp. What began as a simple division soon escalated into an uncontrollable proliferation, with countless chains hungrily pursuing him. The darkness they exuded grew thicker and more suffocating with each strike, challenging Roy''s ability to withstand the onslaught from this enigmatic adversary.

    But even as he fought back, he began to feel something creeping into his mind, something that felt like a cold, clammy hand wrapping around his brain and squeezing. To Roy¡¯s horror he realised that several lives worth of memories he¡¯d consumed and made part of himself over the years were becoming dimmer, as if they were losing some vital spark that kept them alive rather than as simple records he could pursue at will.

    Roy screamed anger finally overwhelming the visceral fear, and drew on his myriad of lives studying magic. If this interloper wanted a duel of magic, then he¡¯d put the fool in his place.

    Ordinarily, reaching the highest levels of magic would require Roy''s transformation, but as his heart raced, he felt a profound connection with the remaining magic still etched within his being. Streams of fire and wind erupted from his outstretched arms, colliding with blasts of darkness and light, momentarily pushing back the encroaching chains and granting him a reprieve.

    Even the very earth beneath his feet imbued him with renewed energy, revitalising his spirit as he scanned the shrouded darkness in search of his elusive opponent. The growing power of the chains eluded his comprehension, yet he endeavoured to suppress the mounting fear that failure to halt this assault might lead to his demise.

    ¡°Come out, come out wherever you are, Roswaal. Unless you''re telling me that, you''re perfectly fine with me waking up right now and consuming your precious student.¡± Roy taunted ears straining for any noise that would allow him to detect his foe.

    The darkness enveloping Roy seemed to thicken, a palpable force bearing down upon him. His breath grew ragged as he fought to maintain focus, scouring the surrounding gloom for any sign of his adversary.

    But there was nothing. Only the oppressive weight of the darkness and the incessant clattering of chains, growing louder with each passing moment.

    Perhaps he should retreat, abandon this place. His target was slipping further away, and the risk to his physical form remained a constant concern. However, the mere thought of forsaking his home, his seat of power, sparked a deep ache within him. Surrendering it to another would be a fate worse than death.

    Then should he take the attack in a random direction, all it would take was¡­..

    ¡°No, no, no, no¡± Roy muttered as he realised that the magic he¡¯d released was already beyond him. The reason the chains weren¡¯t attacking anymore, wasn¡¯t because he¡¯d held them back.

    It was because he had never been their real target.

    Breaking out into a run, he aimed for his altar of power, it was a place he should never be able to be challenged in and yet¡­

    In seconds the Darkness parted at his will and he arrived only to find nothing but chains as far as the eye could see, each pulsing as they seemed to absorb the remaining memories.

    "Those memories belong to me!" Roy screamed, yet no means to strike down his enemy presented itself within his mind.

    Uncaring of the danger. Roy charged forward, and seized the nearest chain, which instantly reacted to his touch.

    The chain was searing hot, and Roy recoiled realising his mistake even as the chains wrapped around him pulling him close.

    Pain seared through him, igniting every nerve in his body as if he were being burned alive. Memories of his past torments flashed through his mind, but none compared to this agony. It was worse than the time he''d been locked in a cell without food or water for weeks, worse than the day he''d been branded by the woman he called ¡®Mama¡¯. Even worse than the moment he''d accepted his authority and been reborn, the pain he felt now was unbearable, all-consuming, and inescapable.

    ¡°Mama, help me,¡± the boy whispered as he was pulled into the darkness to be consumed.

    Done with their prey the chains once more fell limp, and the cold world fell silent at last. Yet in this realm where time itself was slowed to a crawl, years could pass in seconds.

    Slowly a set of chains seemed to loop together drawn in by an invisible force, with the vast majority of the chains slowly seeming to corrode as rust slowly seemed to form on the chains as the darkness dissipated.

    Eventually, yellow eyes reopened, and Roswaal focused on the form he had once embraced with contentment. Rising to his feet, he meticulously unfastened each remaining chain attached to his body. With a mere thought, he draped a replica of his cherished cloak over his frame.

    Already, the memories of what had just transpired began to blur, now that the entity that had bound them had departed. Pausing for a moment, Roswaal bowed, paying his respects to the memories that were slipping away. He had not acted for their sake, but he hoped that by destroying Roy, he could bring some solace to those memories, even though he suspected that the majority of them had merely sought refuge within another vessel of Gluttony.

    Shaking his head, the man allowed himself to slowly begin to drift away from the world he¡¯d dove into, even as he ignored the tug his heart felt. He didn¡¯t deserve to hide in comforting lies, not when there was still so much left to be done after all.

    <hr>

    Crusch soared across the rooftops with breathtaking speed, her senses honed to detect each incoming strike solely through the disturbance of the wind.

    She had underestimated the three assassins who now impeded her progress, hoping that her own swiftness would allow her to quickly catch up to the treacherous treasurer.

    However, their coordinated efforts proved to be a formidable challenge, for while their individual skills might have fallen short of her own, their seamless teamwork was an entirely different matter.

    One of the assassins, a shirtless man radiating raw strength, matched her pace effortlessly despite the burden he carried, maintaining a calculated distance between them at all times. Cradled in his arms was a slender figure specialising in ranged attacks, already unleashing a barrage of throwing knives, fireballs, and a whip that nearly sent Crusch hurtling off the roof. Together, the duo posed a significant distraction that would have surely slowed her down had she not dealt with them accordingly. Yet, it was the third assassin who proved to be the most formidable of all.

    With dual blades swinging from different angles, each strike capable of dealing a fatal blow, Crusch relied on her wind barrier to momentarily hinder the swordsman''s onslaught, allowing her the opportunity to retaliate. The blond-haired swordsman exhibited remarkable skill, wielding both blades with a proficiency that would have impressed most knights. Furthermore, his seamless coordination with the ranged assassin kept Crusch off-balance, her progress significantly impeded. Though over ten minutes had elapsed, she had barely covered half the distance she would have otherwise.

    As Crusch contemplated the situation, doubts gnawed at her mind. Was she heading in the right direction? Should she not focus on defeating her foes before resuming the chase? If she had correctly surmised the treasurer''s destination, then...

    "No," Crusch whispered, her determination resolute as she turned her back on the assassins and surged forward once more. Despite the delays, they were now in close proximity, making it crucial for her to prioritise speed above all else. The Palace Guard would be able to provide assistance, and she could alert them to Sakura''s presence.

    A part of her wondered if it might be a decoy, an attempt to lead her astray. After all, Crusch had no certainty of the fake treasurer''s current whereabouts. With the knowledge of Crusch¡¯s friendship with the king being common knowledge, it was possible that the traitor had deliberately chosen this path to lead her astray.

    And yet, despite these doubts that gnawed at her, there was something within Crusch''s heart that urged her onward, refusing to let her waver.

    ¡°Crusch, take care of Ferris when I¡¯m gone, he¡¯ll need the extra support.¡±

    Fourier''s importance was immeasurable. Should he perish, the civil war would likely escalate, and even if the enemy''s intentions were different, his safety still needed to be accounted for.

    As the wind parted before an incoming blade, Crusch swiftly adjusted her stance, narrowly avoiding being cleaved in two, though she did suffer another deep gash to add to her growing list of wounds.

    I need to focus, Crusch scolded herself, releasing a counter attack that her adversary deftly evaded.

    But it had bought her space.

    She surged forwards again, temporarily drawing ahead of her pursuers.

    Her eyes searched the path ahead of her, and she spotted the flash of purple hair up ahead, motionless and gazing at the palace. Could she be too late? Crusch knew she had to bring this confrontation to an end swiftly.

    Crusch desperately evaded two more strikes, her barrier dissolving, allowing the man to assume she was out of mana.

    Flames wreathed the blades as her pursuer prepared to finish her off, but Crusch raised her own blade, wind storming around the metal as she prepared her ultimate technique.

    Eyes widening, the man leapt back, fire leaving his blades as he erected a flaming barrier, failing to realise who her true target was.

    Even as she was releasing her attack, one of the others cried out a warning, ¡°You fool! She¡¯s aiming at Sakura!¡±

    The fire dissolved, the assassin realising his mistake and trying to intercept her attack, but he was too far out of position.

    Whether she heard the warning, or sensed the attack through another means, Sakura whirled, attempting to step out of the way, but she reacted far too late to dodge the strike completely.

    In a burst of blood, Sakura¡¯s arm was violently blown away from her, sending her careening into the ground with a scream.

    Before Crusch could really feel any satisfaction, however, all three of her pursuers appeared on the same rooftop, even as the muscular man charged, and the swordsman did the same, hoping to catch her in a pincer manoeuvre.

    Allowing her blade to clash with the right, her hand dipped into her pocket before throwing her dagger at the one on the left, she didn¡¯t expect it to land but it would force the man to deflect it, buying her the seconds to finish off her current opponent.

    Turning around, she could see that the man had chosen to ignore the dagger in his arm to swing his own blade at her neck, but even off balance, her wind current was strong enough that one-armed it bought enough time for her to impose her own blade in the way.

    For a moment they strained against each other, his greater size allowing him to press her even one armed. But even an exhausted Crusch wouldn¡¯t lose to someone like this. Wind once more cloaked her blade and another body fell.

    Not sparing the matter a second thought Crusch let herself fall from the rooftops landing in front of her true target.

    Sakura clutched at her bleeding stump, still seeming in shock, but before Crusch could approach any closer, insects rose from the ground, hovering in front of her as a shield.

    ¡°Attack her now!¡± screamed Sakura, shock morphing into rage as the swarm buzzed loud enough to almost drown out her words before launching forward.

    As the swarm launched towards her, Crusch couldn¡¯t help but compare it to the legions she had fought with her army earlier.

    In comparison this was but a small fragment leftover from then, but Crusch could admit that holding them back had been one of the most exhausting battles she had ever faced. Since then she¡¯d had to continually push her body from one encounter to another and she could tell her body was burning out.

    ¡°I won¡¯t let you take another step forward,¡± Crusch declared, a storm gathering upon her blades as the winds screamed its wrath, even her own barrier dissolving to be added to the whirlwind.

    She could feel the hammer of wind she¡¯d created falter however, she¡¯d pushed herself too quickly and too far and the winds came apart even as she tried to keep them contained.

    The insects buzzed as the majority of the winds slammed into them, sending them scattered, but even as it tore them aside, picking up Sakura along for the ride, Crusch was right beside them as the winds sent her careening away.

    <hr>

    Opening her eyes, Crusch attempted to rise and failed, only managing to start to slide against the wall she found herself against.

    ¡°Awake, I see,¡± came the weak voice of someone physically close to her.

    Craning her head, she turned and saw Sakura, similarly pressed against the wall, but where she had made a small indentation, Sakura had found raised metal, impaling herself and slowly bleeding out.

    ¡°Sakura,¡± Crusch said, adrenaline dulling her pain, but even as she twitched she failed to get up. Far too exhausted to even move.

    ¡°You''re lucky that blast of yours destroyed the last of my insects, otherwise I would have made sure to have you die far slower than I will,¡± Sakura said, the hatred was clear in her voice. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you with this final message instead: you were too late. I¡¯ve already cursed our dear King, and he¡¯ll be dead in minutes.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Crusch whispered, refusing to believe that Fourier could have died like that, even as her divine protection told her that Sakura was telling nothing but the truth.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been told by Mama that the stronger dose won¡¯t only kill faster, but that it¡¯ll be a far more agonising death than the one¡¯s his family suffered under,¡± Sakura hissed, coughing and twitching even as her eyes stayed locked on Crusch¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯ve been told that you have a divine blessing that can tell the truth. So you can trust when I say that Mama has more experience with dealing pain than anybody I know, and that I¡¯ve seen her give out fates far worse than death.¡±

    ¡°You hate this Mama person even more than you do me, or even Fourier,¡± Crusch observed, eyes having caught the change in wind. Now that Sakura was no longer hiding her toxic secrets, the woman seemed to perpetually let out a noxious aura, but it had intensified when she had mentioned the woman behind her.

    The wind blowing around Sakura shifted with a touch of fear, and she glared at Crusch, but another coughing fit broke it.

    ¡°Of course I hate her,¡± she whispered as her body calmed down. ¡°She¡¯s the one who gave me this cursed ability, dooming me to never have a moment where I¡¯m not in pain.¡±

    Her words softened further, her eyes slowly losing focus. ¡°It¡¯s been years since she did so, and not once has it ever abated. I couldn¡¯t even move until you and your army had destroyed the majority of the swarm. I suppose if nothing else I can feel at least a little grateful that your army just finished killing the last of them. If I have to die, then doing it in silence for the first time in years sounds nice.¡±

    ¡°Please! If you truly hate this woman so much, trust in the fact that if nothing else I and the kingdom of Lugunica will want revenge,¡± Crusch promised hating even pretending to accept Fourier¡¯s death. But if it would lead to the person responsible for the death¡¯s of the entire royal family.

    ¡°Ha! As if you and your Kingdom stand a chance against Mama! Besides, do you really think I¡¯d feel anything at the deaths of the royal family? I wish I could see your face when you find your precious prince¡¯s body,¡± Sakura spat, hatred reigniting her fading flame. ¡°But if nothing else, I suppose confronting Mama truly will lead to your worst fate imaginable. Look for the name¡ª¡±

    Crusch watched aghast, as the woman choked as one last hidden insect emerged, stinger already stabbed not into Crusch herself but the insect master itself.

    Job accomplished, the wasp started to fly away, leaving the choking woman to die behind him, and leaving Crusch alone and without answers.

 Trials of Friendship

    Fourier felt a pain in his bones as he moved through the palace halls, towards the rooms that had been commandeered for the medics.

    It was like his skeleton was burning, but it was mild enough that he could still power through it. At least, he could for the time being. But who knew how long that would last?

    He was still running on all fours, but now that he wasn¡¯t distracted by the urgency of the situation, he allowed some of his attention to focus on himself.

    His nails had started shifting, elongating and sharpening, as if growing into claws. Having clawed hands was probably a bad look for a human king, but it did make it a bit easier to find purchase on the polished floors.

    He reached an intersection, and slowed, peering around the corner, searching for any signs of life.

    Luckily, this section of the palace seemed to be abandoned. Fourier didn¡¯t really want to have to explain to the palace guards why he was running around on all fours while completely nude.

    With how his body had deformed, there was even the possibility that they wouldn¡¯t recognise him, and assume he was some kind of assassin.

    The coast was clear, but Fourier had discovered another problem. He had stopped moving, and now his muscles were starting to sting and tense up, the short rest giving him the chance to properly feel how tired he was.

    He grit his teeth, and forced himself to start moving again.

    He wasn¡¯t going to allow himself to collapse in the middle of a hallway. Julius would probably have a panic attack, and Crusch would scold him.

    Though truthfully, he didn¡¯t think he was going to get away from that second one. He hadn¡¯t taken bodyguards with him in his mad dash to get to the mirrors, and he was practically crawling his way back. If another assassin were to jump out of the woodwork, even one half as competent as Elsa was, Fourier was sure his life would come to a swift end.

    Were there knights assigned to guard the injured? If there was the possibility that he would bring the ire of assassins with him, they would need competent guardians. But he couldn¡¯t recall the details of who had been assigned there. His head had started to ache terribly.

    ¡­he should probably get to the medics as soon as possible.

    Thankfully, his entire journey back was uneventful.

    As he reached the last stretch, he reached out with one hand, claws tearing into the wall as he hauled himself to his feet.

    It felt wrong. Not unnatural, but odd. He wasn¡¯t used to the way his body had shifted, and he had no balance.

    He took a hesitant step, and almost fell flat on his face.

    He took a breath, and looked at his feet, carefully lifting one leg, and placing it in front of the other, and only then putting his weight on it.

    He still stumbled.

    Fourier bit back an annoyed growl, and shifted his stance, trying to find a way to stand that felt most comfortable.

    The standard fully upright posture he had cultivated as a member of royalty wasn¡¯t working, but perhaps he could maintain his balance if he experimented.

    It took a minute, but Fourier eventually found an arrangement that wasn¡¯t too bad. His knees were bent, and his upper body was angled slightly forward, making him look rather unrefined, but he could take slow steps on the balls of his feet, which made the posture worth it. It was better than crawling, at least.

    He was so focused on making sure he didn¡¯t fall over, he almost missed the cry of alarm, and then the shocked exclamation of, ¡°Your Majesty?¡±

    Fourier looked up to see a pair of his knights, both rushing over to him. One hastily removed his mantle and threw it over Fourier¡¯s shoulders, while the other put his hand on his sword and moved to guard Fourier¡¯s back.

    The first knight crouched so that he could support Fourier with his shoulder, and Fourier gratefully accepted the help.

    ¡°What happened?¡± the knight asked. ¡°Where¡¯s your armour?¡±

    ¡°It melted off,¡± Fourier stated dryly. ¡°It turns out I was more heat-proof than it.¡±

    The knight blinked at him, seemingly confused that Fourier was joking in their current situation, but Fourier maintained his serious gaze.

    The knight¡¯s face paled. ¡°You went into the heart of the fire? But¡ª No, I apologise. It is not my place to question your actions.¡±

    Fourier winced. ¡°No, your thoughts are correct. It was foolish of me. But I needed to finish my speech to the people. I couldn¡¯t leave them without hope.¡±

    Truthfully, it wasn¡¯t a very good excuse, but the knights seemed to accept it. Whether that was because they agreed with him, or they simply knew he wouldn¡¯t change his mind, Fourier couldn¡¯t say, though he suspected it was the latter.

    They helped him through the door to the temporary hospital, and healers instantly started swarming him.

    ¡°Someone fetch a set of clothes for His Majesty,¡± the knight supporting Fourier ordered. ¡°And stand back, his condition is not so serious that he cannot be laid down first.¡±

    The healers backed off, and Fourier was half walked, half dragged to one of the empty beds. He held back a grimace as he saw who was laying in the bed next to it.

    ¡°Your Majesty?¡± Julius asked. Bandages were wrapped around his body, covering the wounds on his arms, head, and midsection. No doubt there were more wrapped around his legs under the blanket.

    There was a smile on his lips, but the tension on his face and the slight furrow of his brow revealed that he was anything but pleased.

    ¡°It is good to see you are unharmed,¡± he said. ¡°However¡­ I can¡¯t help but notice you lack your armour, and I was told you travelled to the mirror room without knights accompanying you for protection.¡±

    ¡°It was important,¡± Fourier protested weakly as he was lowered onto the bed. The knight who had supported him then beat a hasty retreat, clearly wanting to be out of the way of Julius¡¯s ire.

    Alas, Fourier¡¯s knights would protect him from any dangerous enemies, but protecting him from his friends? That was too much to ask.

    ¡°Important enough that you had to go charging into the fire?¡± Julius pressed. ¡°That you had to risk being hunted down by any other assassins that might still be lurking around?¡±

    Fourier hesitated, gathering his thoughts. A handful of medics kneeled beside the bed and began to conjure healing orbs to investigate his body, but they left the space between him and Julius clear so he could continue to talk to his knight.

    ¡°You won¡¯t like this¡­¡± Fourier finally started, ¡°but yes, I believe so. I¡¯m not sure you heard how my speech to the people ended, but suffice to say, I was interrupted at the most inopportune time possible. Had I left things as they were, the citizens would only know that Volcanica has been killed, and they would fear for my own life. If both the Divine Dragon and the last member of the Royal Family were to be taken away from them in the same instant, while the city crumbles around them, I can¡¯t imagine the terror that would bring.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°I had to reassure them that I still lived, and that our enemies would fail. For the sake of their hope, I had to do it.¡±

    Julius stared at him, eyes boring into his own, until finally he appeared to relent. ¡°Very well. If you think it was necessary, then it is not my place to question it.¡±

    ¡°However,¡± he said, and the smile he was wearing became a touch more sinister, ¡°I shall be informing Lady Crusch and Sir Ferris about this. I am not so sure that they will be as accepting as I am.¡±

    Fourier grimaced. ¡°I will not try to hide from the consequences of my actions. It is true that my chosen course of action was dangerous, and I am sure that those two will do their best to impress that fact upon me.¡±

    Julius nodded. ¡°Though, I am still curious. What happened to your armour? I doubt you just decided to take it off for no reason.¡±

    ¡°It melted off in the heat of the fire,¡± Fourier said. ¡°I had not realised the mirror room had reached such temperatures.¡±

    Julius blinked, seemingly struggling to comprehend Fourier¡¯s words. ¡°It¡­ it melted?¡±

    Fourier nodded.

    ¡°It melted¡­ while you were wearing it?¡±

    Fourier nodded again.

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t notice!?¡± Julius asked incredulously, his raised voice drawing fierce looks from the surrounding healers.

    Fourier smiled and held up his hand, exposing the sharp claws that had appeared at the tips. ¡°As you can see, the changes this foreign mana is subjecting me to are¡­ unusual. I was not aware of the heat. In fact, it felt only mildly warmer to me than this room does.¡±

    ¡°On that note,¡± one of the healers said, standing upright and dismissing his healing orb, ¡°the mana¡¯s influence on you is significant, and has been drastically increased by your reliance on it. Even if we manage to get it under control, your body¡­¡±

    He hesitated, then sighed. ¡°Perhaps Sir Felix will be able to do something to cover it up. At the very least, we should be able to do something about the claws.¡±

    ¡°Just do what you can,¡± Fourier said. ¡°Working together, I¡¯m sure Ferris and Roswaal will be able to figure this out.¡±

    ¡°As you say, Your Majesty,¡± the healer said. ¡°I believe we have managed to contain the influence of the mana for the time being. Once the situation in the city is¡ª¡±

    The healer was interrupted by the sound of an explosion, like a crack of thunder coming from just outside the room.

    ¡°To arms!¡± a voice shouted from outside. ¡°There¡¯s a swarm! Barricade the doo¡ª¡±

    The voice was drowned out by another thundercrack, but the healers were already moving, gathering spare blankets and stuffing them into the gaps around the door. Fourier didn¡¯t think blankets would do much to stop insects that could tear flesh from bone, but it would slow them down, which may be all they needed.

    Fourier heard a creak, and turned his head to see Julius unsteadily getting out of bed, his six spirits coming into existence behind him.

    ¡°Sir Julius, you shouldn¡¯t move¡ª¡± one of the healers started, but Julius silenced him with a look.

    ¡°I will defend His Majesty. I have enough strength to do that. Who else is capable of offensive magic?¡±

    Four hands went up, and Julius waved them over.

    ¡°Whoever among you can use Huma, freeze the door. But leave a gap for them to crawl through. We want them coming through one by one, not deciding that it would be easier to eat through the walls.¡±

    The air lit up as the healers cast their spells, creating a wall of ice that sealed all sides of the door, leaving only a tiny passage at the bottom.

    ¡°Who has the mirror?¡± Julius asked, and one of the healers lifted a hand, his hand fumbling within his robes to try and find the metia.

    ¡°Try and contact help,¡± Julius said. ¡°But make sure they know not to approach without mages. Marcos should still be close to the palace, try and get in contact with him if you can.¡±

    The healer nodded, and crouched down, opening the mirror and starting to speak rapidly in a hushed voice.

    Fourier heard several more bursts of magic from outside, seeing the ice barrier light up red each time with light leaking from around the door.

    Then the blasts stopped, and the room¡¯s occupants held their breaths.

    After a long moment, Fourier saw something emerge from under the doorway, then Julius¡¯s sword sprang forward, a silver blur destroying all in its path.

    The doorway was too distant from Fourier for him to properly make it out, but he wouldn¡¯t be surprised if Julius had managed to perfectly bisect the insect. Even injured, his skill with the sword was phenomenal.

    They waited a moment more, but no further insects emerged.

    Julius tsked.

    ¡°They¡¯re being smarter. That one must have been a scout.¡±

    He turned his head so he could address the room, and said, ¡°Everyone, be on the lookout for any insects that sneak in. They might come from the cracks between the floors and the walls, around the windows, or they might tunnel in from the walls.¡±

    Fourier glanced around the room, seeing the medics and quite a few of the patients doing the same. Despite Julius¡¯s warning, he thought the window would be relatively safe, as that entire wall was solid stone, and no insect could burrow through that. At least, not in a timely manner.

    There was the possibility that they¡¯d get through the glass like they had just before Crusch had found the first swarm, but given that they would see the insects as they dissolved it, Fourier didn¡¯t think that method of entry would catch them by surprise.

    The medics and healers without access to offensive magic began moving the beds away from the walls, slowly dragging them all to the centre of the room to expose the walls.

    They got about half-way through moving the beds when the second insect appeared, flying in from under the door in the same way the first one had.

    It flew up, outside the range of Julius¡¯s sword, but one of the healers snapped out a spell, freezing it in a shard of ice.

    ¡°Another scout,¡± Julius called out. ¡°Keep moving the beds.¡±

    The knight was acting strong, but Fourier could see a slight tremble in his arms. Julius had been injured badly in his fight with Elsa, and although the healers had worked wonders, he still needed time to rest in bed. He wasn¡¯t in any shape to be standing as he was, sword in hand, ready to strike at any moment.

    But Fourier held his tongue. Even injured, Julius was the best fighter among them.

    ¡°Marcos knows!¡± the healer with the conversing mirror called out. ¡°He¡¯s on his way, and he¡¯s bringing mages. He says he¡¯ll be here soon!¡±

    Julius nodded, but his eyes were still locked on the doorway.

    Two of his spirits had vanished from his side, Aro and Nes. Fourier guessed that the knight had sent his Wind and Yin spirits out to check the outside of the room.

    Whatever his spirits saw, it couldn¡¯t be good. Julius had a frown stuck to his face, and his lips were pursed.

    Minutes passed, and finally, all the beds had been moved. The room¡¯s occupants waited with bated breath, ears straining to pick up any hint of buzzing wings.

    Julius gestured to the walls around the door.

    ¡°They¡¯re chewing through the walls,¡± he said. ¡°Try and freeze that side. You don¡¯t need to block it completely, but if we can slow them down, we might buy enough time for Marcos to get here.¡±

    Two of the healers obliged, creating a thin sheet of ice over the walls to either side of the doorway. Once done, they stepped back to join the other healers. They were twitchy, jumping at every slight creak and crack from the walls.

    Most of the room¡¯s other occupants were the same, but it looked much worse to have their defenders feeling so nervous.

    Fourier drew in a breath, ready to say something, anything that would bolster their nerves, but before he could even think of how to start, Julius hissed, his head snapping up to look at the ceiling.

    ¡°Back!¡± he bit out, darting away himself. ¡°They¡¯ve gotten into the wall, it¡¯s difficult to tell where they¡¯re going to come from.¡±

    One of the healers raised a hand to freeze the roof, but Julius grabbed his hand.

    ¡°No, the supports won¡¯t be enough to keep up the extra weight. Prepare your spells for when they get through.¡±

    He turned his attention back to the ceiling. Fourier could see him shifting his stance, his sword going still as he prepared to lash out, his spirits hanging in the air around him.

    It was almost anti-climatic when the first insect broke through.

    The wasp burst into the room with a cloud of wood shavings, shot out towards the patients on the beds, and Julius¡¯s sword swept out to cut it in two.

    The second and third wasps didn¡¯t fare any better, but the fourth was joined by four others.

    The healers panicked, lifting their hands and stuttering, but before they could cast their spells, Julius whirled, his sword sweeping out to cut two of them out of the air, his hand reaching up so he could cast, ¡°Goa.¡±

    The remaining three flew directly into the path of the flames, and were burnt to ashes in an instant.

    For a minute, the room was quiet and still.

    Then the insects began pouring from the ceiling in a downpour, shooting towards the beds so quickly that Fourier barely had time for his eyes to widen before¡ª

    ¡°Goa!¡± Julius¡¯s voice rang out, and the room seemed to burst into flames.

    Fourier heard some screams and shouts of alarm as the healers began rushing to put out the fires on the beds before they could injure the patients.

    But he wasn¡¯t paying attention to them. His eyes were focused on Julius.

    The knight was radiating bright white flames, seemingly a combination magic of Fire and Yang, that was setting all the nearby insects alight. His sword was still sweeping out, but rather than cutting individual insects, now he was trying to spread the flame as much as possible.

    The burning insects fell to the ground, starting new fires wherever they landed, though the healers seemed able to keep them under control.

    But Julius couldn¡¯t hold back every insect. Fourier could see one that managed to make it through the gauntlet, weaving over the beds and charging him.

    Fourier grit his teeth, raising a clawed hand to try and grab it out of the air¡­

    But before it reached him, it jerked to the side, and was blown apart.

    Fourier blinked, trying to see the source of his defence. Julius was still using his flames, and the healers were putting out fires. Not to mention, water magic couldn¡¯t do something like that in the first place.

    He scanned the room, wondering if one of the patients had been hiding the ability to use Wind magic, but as he did so, he spotted a green glow out of the corner of his eye.

    He glanced down, and spotted two dots hanging in the air, one bright and green, one dark and black.

    ¡°Aro and Nes?¡± Fourier asked. The two spirits wavered in the air slightly, but Fourier didn¡¯t have nearly enough spiritual affinity to understand them. Julius¡¯s two spirits he had sent out to scout had returned, but they had not gone back to their master.

    Which could only mean¡­

    ¡°Julius assigned you two to defend me,¡± Fourier whispered, barely audible over the crackling of flames, the shouts of alarm, and the buzzing of wings.

    The spirits wavered some more. Fourier took that as a yes.

    Fourier initially felt a frustrated resignation welling up inside him, that his position as the Ruler made him more worth defending than the myriad patients around him, but as he watched two more insects slip through the flames and burst apart against the spirits¡¯ defence, he felt that frustration fade away.

    The insects were ignoring the others completely.

    He watched one dart around a healer in order to get a clear shot at Fourier, only to be ripped to shreds once it got close enough.

    Indeed, it seemed every single insect was the same. Not a single one was trying to get to the exposed patients or even the healers trying to keep the fires down. Their efforts were entirely focused on getting to Fourier.

    Fourier had no doubt that Julius would not have changed his actions even if the insects had been targeting the patients, but since they were safe, he allowed himself to relax a little.

    Even if one or two insects did manage to break through the spirits¡¯ shield, what could they do? They needed huge swarms working in concord to tear flesh from bone, and the only swarm present was currently being burned to ashes by Julius.

    As Julius began cleaning up the last of the survivors, the few insects that had managed to get past him gathered together, then charged Fourier all at once, likely in an effort to overwhelm the spirits¡¯ shield with numbers.

    Aro and Nes moved up into the path of the insects, and Fourier saw the air flicker as they poured more mana into the shield.

    The insects didn¡¯t slow, and rammed into the shield, two dozen in all. The first wave was blown apart instantly, but every successive wasp got further and further through the defensive spell, causing the spirits to drift backwards, getting closer to Fourier.

    If there had been more of them, perhaps they would have been able to get all the way through, but as they were, they barely got within a handspan of him before the last one was sliced out of the air.

    ¡°Huma!¡± Julius cried out, and the fires died down all at once.

    The air was still for a moment, the room¡¯s occupants listening intently for any hint of buzzing wings. But there wasn¡¯t a single sound.

    The fearful atmosphere of the room began to brighten, and a few of the occupants raised their voices in a hesitant cheer.

    The positivity was infectious, and after a moment, others began to join in, the hesitation falling away to be replaced by exuberant relief at having survived.

    Fourier saw Julius¡¯s shoulders slump almost imperceptibly, but the knight tried not to let his weariness show.

    ¡°That appears to have been the last of them,¡± he said, quieting the celebrations. ¡°Healers, you can return to taking care of your patients. But I would ask that everyone be wary. That may not be the last swarm that reaches our position before Marcos gets here.¡±

    That quelled the joy in the room somewhat, and Fourier shot Julius an exasperated frown.

    Julius ignored him, carefully making his way back to his bed.

    Once he reached it, Fourier gave him another look, trying to convey a question with only his expression.

    How are you feeling?

    Julius grimaced.

    ¡°I can fight if I need to,¡± he mouthed back, not willing to voice the words. There was no need to let the others know that he was so close to his limit.

    Fourier sighed. He was glad that Julius seemed mostly okay, but he was certain that his knight had pushed himself in his defence of the room. Hopefully he wouldn¡¯t need to do so again.

    He closed his eyes, his mind replaying the swarm¡¯s attack. Something about it was bothering him. He had a feeling there was something that didn¡¯t quite add up in the swarm¡¯s actions, a doubt that wouldn¡¯t go away.

    They were acting intelligently, Fourier thought. So the insect controller must have been directing their actions. Then¡­ why did they just charge me?

    Surely they would have known that it was pointless? That rather than charging him in a stream, it would have been better to come at him from many directions?

    But even if they did that, they didn¡¯t have the numbers to overwhelm the shield, and even if they had, they didn¡¯t have the numbers to hurt me badly.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    They had to have known that¡­ so then, their real goal with the charge would have been¡ª

    His thoughts cut off as he felt a sudden sharp pain in his hand.

    He looked down, and saw one of the wasps, still alive and crawling on the bed, its stinger embedded in his flesh.

    Too late, he realised what had happened. While the spirits had been distracted by the charging wasps in the air, one of the wasps had landed and crawled underneath the shield, and then slowly made its way towards him

    Fourier¡¯s other hand snapped out and grabbed the wasp, crushing it and flinging it away.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Julius asked, and Fourier heard his bed creak as the knight returned to his feet.

    ¡°One of them snuck through,¡± Fourier said, lifting his hand to examine the wound, trying to see if the stinger had remained in his skin. ¡°It stung me, but I think I¡¯m fine.¡±

    That was a lie. Fourier¡¯s mind was racing, fitting this attack into the rest of the swarm¡¯s actions.

    He had thought it strange that they would still try so desperately to get to him in such low numbers, that even if they had reached him, they wouldn¡¯t be able to kill him like how they had the various victims of the slums.

    But he had overlooked one vital piece of information.

    Wasps were venomous.

    The goal was to kill him, not eat him, and a single insect was more than capable of that.

    ¡°I may have been poisoned,¡± Fourier said. ¡°Could I get a healer to look over the wound?¡±

    Julius hissed, and Fourier heard the whipping of fabric as people began to move.

    One of the healers was by his side in an instant, pushing him back onto the bed so he lay flat.

    ¡°Do you feel anything?¡± the man asked, already conjuring a healing orb over his hand. ¡°Any pain, or any numbness?¡±

    ¡°No pain,¡± Fourier replied, forcing his muscles to relax as he felt the healing magic start to intrude. The foreign mana from the staff didn¡¯t seem to like the mana of healers, and it was trying to resist the man¡¯s healing.

    ¡°There does seem to be a bit of numbness, though,¡± he continued, moving his fingers slightly so he could get a better feel for them. ¡°In my thumb and the side of my hand.¡±

    The healer nodded, but he seemed somewhat distracted. His brows were furrowed, and beads of sweat had started to appear on his forehead.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem to be poison,¡± the man said. ¡°As far as I can tell¡­ the insect injected something that greatly resembles blood into your veins.¡±

    He paused.

    ¡°In fact, I am almost sure it is blood,¡± the healer continued. ¡°Usually that wouldn¡¯t be too harmful even in the worst case¡­ but just in case, I¡¯ll remove it.¡±

    The light of his healing orb intensified, and Fourier felt a chill go through his body.

    After a moment, the light dimmed, and the healer withdrew his hands, a small bead of red floating above them.

    He held it out to his side, and an assistant quickly approached with a pail for him to place it into.

    ¡°I¡¯ve removed the majority of it,¡± the healer said. ¡°But some has spread too thin in your bloodstream to filter it out. I don¡¯t detect anything unusual though.¡±

    Fourier tried moving his hand again to check on the numbness, but when he did, he found that his fingers wouldn¡¯t move as he wanted them to. In fact, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure he could properly feel some of his arm.

    ¡°I think the numbness is spreading,¡± he said, drawing a worried look from the healer. ¡°It¡¯s going up my arm, around half-way to my elbow¡ª¡±

    Pain shot through his entire arm, like someone had just injected acid into his bloodstream, and he gasped, cutting his words short.

    ¡°Your Majesty!?¡± the healer exclaimed, the blue light of his magic brightening as he poured more mana into it.

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    Fourier could see Julius now, standing at the other side of the bed. He wanted to scowl and order the knight back to bed, he was in no condition to be on his feet. But Fourier knew that if he opened his mouth again, he might scream from the pain.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± the healer answered Julius. ¡°He suddenly started convulsing, but I can¡¯t see anything wrong! There¡¯s no poison, no injuries!¡±

    He was convulsing? Fourier started paying more attention to his body, and found that he was indeed. His muscles were twitching wildly, though he couldn¡¯t properly feel his right side. The acid had started to spread through his midsection, churning his internal organs. It squelched through his body like mud. It was slow, making every part of him it reached feel heavy and numbing every sensation except the pain.

    When it reached his heart, he had to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood in order to keep from screaming.

    Then, when the pain had become almost unbearable, a surge of mana washed over him, setting fire to the poison and purging it from his body..

    He gasped.

    The feeling of the mana was discomforting, but whatever it was, it had helped to abate the pain. In fact, he could probably now talk without biting his own tongue off.

    ¡°Whatever that was, it helped,¡± he said. His voice sounded weak. Almost as weak as when he had been bedridden for months.

    ¡°What helped?¡± Julius asked, his face coming closer to Fourier¡¯s. He looked concerned.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t me!¡± the healer cried. ¡°The foreign mana in his body just went haywire! I can¡¯t control it!¡±

    The foreign mana?

    Fourier frowned, opening his mouth to ask another question, but all that came out was a sudden yelp as the mud returned in full force.

    It was more liquid now, moving faster and lashing out at myriad parts of his body, causing pain to wrack his body.

    The mana lashed out in turn, setting the mud alight, and this time, Fourier had the presence of mind to notice that it was indeed the foreign mana that had formerly resided in the sceptre.

    It had withdrawn from whatever it was doing to his body, and was now fighting back against the invading poison. It was keeping him alive, but¡­

    Another wave of acid surged through his body, attacking the parts of his body the foreign mana was strongest in. It felt like he was being impaled by a rain of arrows.

    The foreign mana responded in kind, the two titanic powers brawling it out, with Fourier¡¯s body as a battleground.

    The healer cursed, and the healing light intensified.

    ¡°He¡¯s bleeding internally,¡± he said ¡°I think the mana is damaging his internals. I¡¯ll have to try and contain it¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± Fourier bit out. ¡°It¡¯s keeping the wasp¡¯s poison back.¡±

    ¡°There is no poison!¡± the healer protested. ¡°I can¡¯t sense anything! Perhaps the wasp tricked the mana into attacking your body?¡±

    Fourier heard a sharp intake of breath, and his eyes swivelled to Julius.

    The Finest Knight met his eyes, realisation on his face.

    ¡°It¡¯s the same as your illness!¡± he said. ¡°That must be why it¡¯s undetectable with healing magic! In, Nes!¡±

    Fourier¡¯s eyes widened as the words sunk in. He had known that someone had cursed him and his family without them noticing. Roswaal said it had to be transmitted with physical contact, so they had assumed that they had shaken hands with an assassin at some point.

    But if insects could also inflict the curse, then perhaps they had never even seen the assassin. Perhaps they had been infected and they all simply thought it had been mere bug bites.

    His eyes focused on Julius again, watching the swirling motes of mana in the air as Julius called on the power of his Yin and Yang spirits.

    Julius held a hand over Fourier¡¯s body, and closed his eyes.

    Fourier felt the spirits¡¯ mana sink into him, and then it did¡­ something. He recognised the feeling. It was the same as the feeling of Roswaal¡¯s magic, from when he had first healed the curse.

    However, unlike that time, the magic didn¡¯t seem to be able to exorcise the pain.

    ¡°I can¡¯t get a grip on it,¡± Julius said, his voice soft in an effort to keep from being overheard. ¡°This is¡­ different. It¡¯s not like the examples Roswaal showed me.¡±

    He opened his eyes and shot a look at someone standing outside of Fourier¡¯s vision.

    ¡°Get a message to our forces in the city! We need Margrave Mathers and Sir Felix here now! This is the top priority!¡±

    <hr>

    The sounds of laboured breathing filled the deserted grounds as Crusch slowly made her way forward, leaning heavily on the wall for support, each step taking ever increasing amounts of willpower to continue.

    A part of her wondered why she was even moving at all, her final blow had been a whirlwind of mana and noise, doubtlessly a scout would be dispatched to find out just what had happened, and by leaving the area she was simply making it more difficult to be found, especially in the condition she was currently in.

    Even assuming the palace had fallen, there was no escaping the fact that in her condition, she wouldn¡¯t be able to help retake it, and she risked exasperating her injuries by pushing herself further.

    Yet despite those thoughts, she never stopped moving forward, the need to see Fourier pushing her onward.

    A curse wasn¡¯t something she could stop even if she was in a healthy state. All she was doing was causing further damage to herself. Wasn¡¯t this exactly what she¡¯d warned Ferris against?

    Coughing, she fought to clear her airways, her trembling legs carrying her onward. Her vision blurred, and the world seemed to sway around her. Still, she pressed on her vow giving her strength¡ªshe had sworn to be by Fourier''s side when he departed from this world.

    Crusch continued her inexorable march, her perception of time slipping away.

    All that remained was a single thought. She had to get to Fourier. She had to.

    She heard footfalls, and she blinked open her eyes she hadn¡¯t realised she had closed, seeing a startled soldier in front of her, worry clear in his eyes.

    He was towering above her, almost twice her height. She didn¡¯t think any soldiers were that tall, but for some reason, he didn¡¯t look all that large.

    It took a moment for her to realise why. She was on the floor, looking up at him. She must have collapsed against the wall while walking.

    ¡°Medical,¡± Crusch whispered, barely able to raise her voice, but all the same, it seemed to galvanise the soldier.

    He leaned down, and Crusch did her best to cooperate as he slung her over his shoulder, though with her failing strength that mostly meant balancing herself with her limbs.

    ¡°We¡¯re not far,¡± the soldier said, beginning to move. ¡°Tell me if you need me to slow down.¡±

    With that, the man started dashing forward through the halls, doing his best to hold her relatively still. But there was only so much he could do at his current pace, the slight jostling causing Crusch¡¯s wounds to throb with each step.

    Thankfully the guard made good time, approaching their destination quickly before starting to slow down as he approached the iced wall which melted away to allow their entrance.

    Allowing her gaze to wander she spotted Fourier¡¯s figure near the centre, and she could see his chest rising and falling, and for a second she felt relief.

    Sakura had promised that he¡¯d die in minutes, and already she knew it had been substantively longer than that since their conversation.

    Before she could open her mouth to ask, the majority of the healers quickly made their way over to her side, leaving only Julius and one other healer to stay by Fourier who was studying her with concern quietly.

    ¡°Lady Crusch, can you hear us properly now?¡± their leader asked, voice no longer sounding distorted. ¡°Your eardrums have ruptured, and your sense of balance was likely impaired, I¡¯m already finished working on the concussion you suffered as well.¡±

    ¡°I could always hear you,¡± Crusch stated. The healer looked unsure at her words, so she elaborated, ¡°My divine blessing means I do not need sound to make out the words people state.¡±

    However she acknowledged it did require a sound mind, which helped explain just how distorted her vision had been becoming.

    ¡°The strain on your gate is tremendous, and I''m afraid I lack the ability to fully repair the damage at this moment," the healer''s voice carried a tinge of disappointment. "However, your gate remains intact. I believe Sir Ferris should be able to mend it if you take it easy."

    Crusch nodded, rising despite the healers hovering around her, who clearly wanted to order her to rest. However, they were too intimidated by the fire in her eyes to do more than stand aside as she strode to Fourier. He hadn¡¯t rushed to her side when she had been brought in.

    That was uncharacteristic of him.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± she began softly. ¡°I was able to witness the demise of someone who claimed to be the one who cursed your family. They stated that they¡¯ve cursed you as well.¡±

    As she spoke, she studied Fourier¡¯s face. He was pale. Almost as pale as the days he had spent bedridden towards the end of the time he had previously struggled with the curse.

    Crusch¡¯s heart was thundering in her chest, and she was barely able to maintain her composure at the sight of how rapidly the curse had attacked him. But it would only cause Fourier pain to see her panicking, so she kept a tight lid on it.

    She pulled a stool over to the bed, trying to school her face into a more neutral expression, then sat down by his side.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been resisting it in some way,¡± she continued, ¡°and I¡¯m sure Julius has already sent for Ferris and Roswaal, so if you can keep fighting¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Fourier interrupted, his red eyes drooping closed for a few seconds, before reopening. ¡°I¡¯m not the reason that the curse has been¡ª¡±

    His voice cut off as his arm spasmed. He winced, but didn¡¯t let out a single sound of pain. He tensed the arm, again, as if to try and move it.

    Crusch reached out and took his hand in hers, keeping him from moving it.

    It took a moment, but Fourier relented, and let his arm relax again.

    ¡°It¡¯s not me,¡± he continued, his voice coming out a bit clearer this time. ¡°It¡¯s the foreign mana from the sceptre. It entered my body when I saved Julius and now it¡¯s fighting the curse.¡±

    Crusch¡¯s eyes involuntarily drifted towards the knight in surprise, but while his expression remained perfectly neutral, his wind spiralled in a chaotic mess she¡¯d rarely seen from the serene knight.

    ¡°Which means I¡¯m not out of options just yet,¡± Fourier hastily reassured, forcing some measure of cheer into his voice. ¡°If we need to, I suspect we might be able to strengthen the Foreign Mana, which might even be able to destroy the curse.¡±

    ¡°Fourier,¡± Julius cut in, eyebrows furrowing. ¡°I know you brought up the idea earlier, but you remember what the healer said.¡±

    Fourier shot him a look, but Julius held firm, his face stern and unyielding.

    After a moment, Fourier sighed.

    ¡°Though that does risk the possibility of irreversible changes,¡± he admitted. ¡°Before I was cursed, the mana was trying to remodel me in Volcanica¡¯s image, and if we strengthen it to the point that it¡¯s able to defeat the curse, it could go as far as completely remaking my body, or infecting my mind.¡±

    Crusch¡¯s eyes widened, but Fourier hurriedly continued before she could say anything. ¡°But that would be a last resort. And even if we do end up having to use it, I have faith that Ferris would find a way to reverse the effects.¡±

    There was no trace of doubt in his eyes. He said what he truly believed, that Ferris would be able to completely remove the traces of the Divine Dragon himself.

    Perhaps it was naive of him¡­ but if that was the case, then Crusch was naive as well. Listening to him talk, she too couldn¡¯t help but feel that Ferris would be capable of such a feat.

    Crusch felt the slightest of smiles touch her lips at the thought. Fourier spotted it, and he broke into a huge grin.

    He was trying to make her feel better, Crusch knew. He was putting up a facade, but she had to admit it was working. It lightened her heart to see him still acting so carefree.

    He hadn¡¯t been able to act like that for a long time. Not since he was cursed the first time.

    ¡°Besides,¡± Fourier continued, his grin fading slightly. ¡°We still have some time before we have to make any decisions.¡±

    He looked at Julius. ¡°Could you give us a moment? There¡¯s something I need to say.¡±

    Julius nodded, the understanding clear on his face. He stepped back, and on an unspoken signal, the mana around him surged.

    Crusch saw the air began to twist around them, an invisible barrier designed to prevent noise from escaping it.

    For a moment, they simply remained silent, as the spell came into being. But even when it was fully set up, and the sounds of the infirmary were replaced with a gentle breeze, Fourier didn¡¯t speak.

    He was hesitating, his grin now gone, replaced with a nervous tenseness to his lips.

    He stiffened almost imperceptibly, trying to hide the pain he felt as his body was assaulted by the curse.

    Then it passed, and he sighed.

    ¡°I had planned to tell you the first time,¡± he said softly. ¡°I had made up my mind, I was about to¡­ and then I was cured. And we were all so busy, with the assassins, with the kingdom, and then with the bugs, the coronation, and everything else. There just wasn¡¯t a good time to bring it up.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°And now I¡¯m back here. We don¡¯t know where Ferris or Roswaal are, and the assassins are probably trying to keep them away from us. Even if we decide to strengthen Volcanica¡¯s mana, we may not be able to. This could be my deathbed.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that!¡± Crusch exclaimed, shocking even herself with the ferocity in the words. ¡°There¡¯s still time. They¡¯ll manage to get here in time.¡±

    Fourier smiled, ¡°Even so¡­ Julius already tried to cure it, but he couldn¡¯t. It¡¯s a different curse from last time. It¡¯s possible neither of them will be able to remove it either.¡±

    Crusch felt her breath catch in her throat. She tried to speak, but found she couldn¡¯t. She had no idea what she would even say.

    The idea that Fourier would be taken from them just as they finally triumphed over the forces that had been on the attack since the royal family had been killed¡­ it was just too cruel.

    ¡°So, what I¡¯m saying,¡± Fourier continued, ¡°Is that I don¡¯t really have any excuses left. I¡¯ve been making them for years, but now I¡¯ve run out.¡±

    He took a breath, and then slowly let it out.

    ¡°I never told you my dream. I¡¯ve been having it for years now. I¡¯ve always been taking steps forward to reach it, to make it a reality in the world while I¡¯m awake.¡±

    The smile returned to his face, and this time it was entirely genuine. Just seeing it caused a smile to bloom on her own face.

    ¡°The three of us have always been stronger together than apart, and it always hurts to have to separate each and every time. Making Julius my personal Knight rather than Ferris hurt, but maybe it was for the best since it¡¯ll let us do this together.¡±

    Pausing, he closed his eyes as another tremor passed through his body, yet the gentle smile never left his face, as Crusch squeezed his hand in support.

    ¡°I intend to make you my queen,¡± he said, crimson eyes locking onto amber with a determination she¡¯d only seen once before.

    Crusch could feel her heart rate accelerate and her cheeks flush as she stared into his eyes.

    ¡°And I¡¯d make Ferris our knight,¡± he continued. ¡°Then the three of us will always be together, and I know that with you two by my side, I¡¯ll be blessed with happiness.¡±

    For a second, Fourier stopped as his gaze fell to her lips, as she could feel her smile softening even as it grew.

    ¡°I want to see the same future as you do, Fourier,¡± Crusch whispered her flush, deepening, ¡°I¡¯ll do all I can to ensure that it comes true.¡±

    It took a moment for the words to register, but Crusch could see the very instant they sunk in. A massive, beaming smile broke out on Fourier¡¯s face, like the sun bursting through the clouds.

    Leaning forward, Crusch and Fourier¡¯s head rested against one another as they whispered together.

    ¡°I love you.¡±

    <hr>

    The wind howled past his ears as Ferris rushed forward, pushing his body to greater and greater speeds as he tore across the ground, paying no heed to his surroundings. His mind had long since stopped processing his own vision. He only saw enough to dodge any obstacles in his path, and even that sight was quickly forgotten.

    All of his attention was focused on his gate. From there, he could more closely monitor his own body, and most effectively prioritise his bodily functions.

    He carefully increased his sense of balance even as he pushed the muscles of his legs to their breaking point with each step. His heart and lungs were the next thing to focus on, as he forcibly increased his blood flow and level of oxygenation, while at the same time repairing the damage the organs suffered with every breath and every heartbeat.

    It was a form of enhancement only the greatest of water mages could ever create, and most would consider it the height of recklessness. A single misstep could result in the death of the caster, and even if they survived, they would suffer irreversible damage to their body.

    So all he had to do was not make such a misstep.

    Ferris could only hope it was enough, and if it should cost him something to save Fourier, then he was more than prepared to pay the price.

    Feeling his sense of balance shift, he knew that he was finally approaching the paved section of the palace. He gave a brief sliver of attention to his vision to confirm it and get his bearings, then dove back into his gate to weaken the enhancements one by one.

    Once he finished undoing all his reckless changes and resurfaced, gaining proper awareness of his vision, he found that he was already at the palace gates.

    They were wide open, so he didn¡¯t even slow, continuing his charge forward. He had no time to be examined himself, and in seconds had ran through a side entrance he favoured, ignoring his pang of worry at seeing it unguarded.

    He knew Fourier had purposely left fake vulnerabilities scattered throughout the palace to catch assassins and make the best of their limited staff, but it felt wrong to see the vibrant place so empty.

    Turning a corner towards the infirmary, Ferris locked eyes with a guard, whose fearful face lit up at the sight of him.

    ¡°Sir Ferris, your Majesty is¡ª¡± the man started, but was interrupted by Ferris sprinting past him, the confirmation of his worries causing him to redouble his pace.

    The entrance of the infirmary was iced over, and Julius¡¯s eyes lit up at seeing Ferris approaching. With a gesture from the Finest Knight, the doors creaked open and Ferris burst through into the room.

    Fourier and Crusch were together in the centre of the room with Crusch stroking his hair, Fourier¡¯s face was incredibly pale but the smile they shared showed a certain sense of peace and happiness he hadn¡¯t seen in Fourier¡¯s face in months.

    One look and he knew.

    Fourier had finally confessed and it¡¯d been reciprocated like he¡¯d always known it would be, a thought that filled him with a simple happiness of his own, even as the fear he¡¯d always known crept in. If this continued then there was no chance that they¡¯d be able to continue as they always had before, Crusch and Ferris against the world.

    All you must do is stand aside, and this can all be washed away.

    Yet even as the strange thought passed through his mind, Ferris was already rushing forward hand outstretched to catch Fourier¡¯s own.

    ¡°Not yet!¡± he cried out, his hands shining a dazzling blue as his gate strained, releasing more mana than he ever had before.

    ¡°I won¡¯t let you die so easily, Fourier! You still have far too many promises to slip away now!¡±

    His mana began to sink into Fouier¡¯s body, and Ferris could feel the dimming of his senses, as each began to fade in preparation. This time he¡¯d destroy the curse himself.

    Yet even as awareness drained from him, his eyes shifted to meet Crusch¡¯s, he tried to smile, but only managed a grimace. His last sight was her worried eyes before everything turned black.

    When Ferris¡¯s senses returned to him, the first thing he became aware of was a dry heat that seemed to suck all the moisture from him, along with what felt like drops of acid hitting his skin, but as he opened his stinging eyes he quickly saw the source.

    The od was a strange and poorly understood aspect of magic. Stepping into it as Ferris was doing would show sights seemingly impossible, as the caster¡¯s own senses would fill in the gaps of his perception, interpreting the od as something more familiar to them.

    Ferris saw Fourier¡¯s od as a great city, similar to Lugunica, but far grander. The buildings were larger, and the streets were wider.

    No doubt it would have once been the greatest city that could ever exist.

    But now, as far as the eyes could see, fire raged, with support structures starting to collapse under their own weight. But just from the sheer quantity of smoke in the air, Ferris could tell that the blaze had once been far greater and more threatening to Fourier.

    Now it was dying, slowly going out under the assault of a torrent of blood that rained down from the sky, painting the streets and buildings red.

    No, Ferris realised, looking up. It¡¯s not coming from the sky.

    He had initially mistaken it for a dark cloud, but as his eyes focused, he could make out the body of the curse. It took the form of an ever-shifting mud, spewing its blood-like acid on every corner of the city it could reach, tendrils stretching out over the sky and touching down across the city, tornados of muck and blood.

    Ferris felt the pain on his skin continue to intensify, and looking down, he could see his skin rapidly redden as his skin started to dissolve, each droplet of blood stripping away flesh and exposing his flesh.

    He erected a barrier of swirling water, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the pain faded. While it certainly wouldn¡¯t be able to stop a sword swing, he was grateful that, if nothing else, it could hold off this liquid form the curse had taken.

    As the blaze continued to harass the torrent with its dying flickers, Ferris wondered just what Fourier had done to get it inside of him.

    Judging from the collapsing buildings all around it, the blaze was damaging Fourier¡¯s lifeforce, but right now it was an invaluable ally. Should he risk trying to strengthen it? Or take the safer approach and attack the torrent while it was busy with the flames?

    The choice was taken from him, as the flame leapt off the buildings, with a deafening roar soon following as it swiftly coalesced into the shadow of a very familiar dragon.

    Volcanica, the divine dragon of Lugunica, stood before Fourier and the curse.

    For a moment, Ferris felt as if his brain was going to boil just standing in front of even this faded shadow, but the moment swiftly faded as the flame collapsed, swiftly losing its shape.

    But even as its body lost its cohesion, it was rushing forward into the heart of the torrent, morphing to appear more like a star than mere fire, and its mere approach caused the twisted liquid to boil and fade away.

    It hit the curse dead on, burying itself into the mass of mud, its divine light starting to fade under the curse¡¯s onslaught.

    Then the light surged, shining so brightly Ferris could almost mistake it for the intensity of the sun. The star exploded, vapourising large swaths of the curse and scattering the muck, causing the curse to lose its solidity.

    It drooped and faltered, but Ferris could see the individual pieces that had been blasted off begin to move under their own power, trying to get back to the main body.

    But he wasn¡¯t going to let the opening go.

    Ferris swiftly followed up on the dragonic mana¡¯s attack, not allowing the curse a second to recover. His blasts of water and spells lashed out at the curse, attacking not the source of the curse as the Fire had, but instead its connection to Fourier, the tendrils it was extending down to touch the city.

    If he could sever and isolate it, the curse would simply starve to death, and with it so unrooted the curse had little chance of fighting him off.

    Apparently realising its precarious position, the curse increased its production speed, pouring  its stolen energy into spreading out as many tendrils as fast as it could, holding back only the bare minimum required to try and fend off Ferris¡¯s blows.

    But its defences were ineffectual.

    Ferris¡¯s attacks of swirling water ripped through the tendrils the curse extended to try and fight him, and were unable to stop him as he cut through the first connection to the city, and then the second.

    It flickered and raged, and the cityscape was filled with an unearthly scream as it gathered its power for one last attack, this time targeting Ferris himself.

    An ocean of blood poured from the sky, coming down in a torrent right over Ferris¡¯s head.

    Ferris raised both hands, and formed a whirling spiral of water.

    The blood hit his shield like a boulder, and Ferris almost buckled under the weight of it.

    But he held, forcing his spiral to spin faster as it stole the strength of the curse''s attack and fed it back into the city.

    The curse seemed to realise what Ferris was doing, and stopped the downpour, but Ferris wasn¡¯t finished just yet.

    He extended the spiral, feeding even more mana into and launching it upwards.

    The curse lashed out at it, but every strike it landed only fed the spiral. It was a maelstrom now, ripping the remaining tendrils apart as it grew to surround the entirety of the curse.

    The curse screamed once more as it tried to keep ahold of its remaining power, but the maelstrom was proving too much for it. Every loss it suffered was integrated into the whirling waters, adding to the mass placing it under siege.

    Slowly at first, then with growing speed, the curse began to shrink. It screamed one final time, and then the riptide tore it asunder.

    Ferris fell to his knees exhausted, and allowed himself to smile and relax as he for several seconds he simply lay there.

    The maelstrom came apart, and pure, untainted water rained from the sky, washing away the remnants of blood and flame alike.

    Ferris finally looked up, watching the water clean the buildings, restoring the city to some semblance of pristineness. He shook his head as he saw all the damage the fight with the curse had caused.

    Fourier¡¯s once healthy life-force had been twisted and damaged substantially, but with all foreign occupants gone, he had little doubt that he could heal it with time.

    Perhaps if this was the first time he¡¯d healed Fourier, even his talent wouldn¡¯t be enough to figure out the original form his life force once took, so twisted it had become.

    But this was far from the first time he had healed his prince.

    While he had never before delved so deep into the prince¡¯s Od, Ferris had long since memorised the presence of Fourier¡¯s life force.

    Great waves of water swept over the city at Ferris¡¯s will, picking up the rubble that littered the streets and slotting it together, binding the pieces together with mana, reforming buildings and streets at the areas Ferris deemed most critical.

    It was far easier to destroy than to create, so Ferris wouldn¡¯t be able to fix all the damage in one day, but he could make a decent start.

    Once the tides had begun to lose their integrity and drain away, Ferris took one last look to see if there were any urgent spots he had missed, then finally allowed his senses to return to him, his mana slowly untangling from his friend.

    There was a period of darkness as Ferris¡¯s mind drifted back to his own body. He lost sight of the great city that Fourier¡¯s Od took the form of, but still wasn¡¯t entirely back in his own skin, able to perceive with his own eyes.

    It took longer than it should for Ferris to return. He had not practised the technique of diving into the Od much, but he had always been able to return fairly quickly. But he had never been as exhausted as he was now for those practice runs.

    His recent actions were catching up to him. Between his day of breaking into a church, his headlong rush toward the palace, and now his work in Fourier¡¯s Od, Ferris had driven himself to the point that he wasn¡¯t sure he was going to be able to even open his eyes without falling unconscious.

    But it would worry Fourier and Crusch if he just collapsed without warning.

    So he pushed his body¡¯s needs away, and forced his mind to bubble up to the surface.

    He blinked, his vision beginning to return to him.

    ¡°Ferris? Are you alright?¡±

    He was lying on the bed. Or rather, his face was, the rest of his body seemed to be sitting on a chair. Someone must have gotten one for him.

    He lifted his face off the bed, his vision slowly clearing, his eyes landing on Fourier¡¯s face.

    His skin was pale, and the hand he had extended out to hold Ferris¡¯s was cold.

    But he wasn¡¯t in pain, and he wasn¡¯t going to die.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he answered. ¡°Ferri is alright. Great, actually.¡±

    He tried to smile to give reassurance that he was alright, but he couldn¡¯t. He was already smiling as widely as he was able.

    ¡°Are you sure, Ferris? Do you need a bed?¡±

    That was a different voice. Crusch¡¯s.

    She was still nearby, and she sounded as tired as Ferris was.

    ¡°I¡­ yeah,¡± he relented. He let out a slight laugh. ¡°But I¡¯ll need help to get there. I ran too much, and now my legs don¡¯t want to help.¡±

    He turned his face to find her, but he didn¡¯t have to look far.

    She was sitting opposite him, by Fourier¡¯s bedside. Ferris reached his free hand over Fourier¡¯s legs, and after a moment, Crusch took it in her own.

    ¡°I do need a bed¡­ but not just yet,¡± Ferris said. He was losing strength in his upper body, so he lowered himself back onto Fourier¡¯s bed.

    ¡°Let me spend a little while like this.¡±

    He could sense that Crusch wanted to insist, but she held her tongue. Ferris had just cured Fourier, of course she wouldn¡¯t refuse his wish to spend some time with his closest friends.

    ¡°You can take as long as you like.¡± Fourier answered, voice rich with amusement and happiness as the three allowed themselves to relax.

 The Coronation

    The sun shined down brightly onto the bustling streets of the city of Lugunica. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in since the funeral, and there was a feeling of celebration in the air. The smiles people wore were more genuine than they had been in months, and there was a glint of hope in their eyes.

    Most of the damage the city had suffered in the attacks had already been repaired. The kingdom had spent a great deal of its limited resources on cleanup, which had concerned many when the measures were first announced, but the massive construction projects had ended up boosting the local economy significantly, to the point that the projects were later extended to begin renewing the areas devastated by the great fire.

    There were even whispers that the kingdom was considering launching new projects to build proper dwellings in the slums.

    But although the people seemed positive overall, if an observer were to watch closely, they could have made out minor signs of unease. Some people had a slight hollowness in their eyes that their smiles could not fully cover up, and many looked to the sky on occasion, their faces slightly pensive.

    The news of the Divine Dragon¡¯s demise had not been taken as poorly as might have been feared, as the feeling of triumph after overcoming the attackers had dulled the worst of the fear and sorrow in the capital, but all could sense a great change in Lugunica¡¯s future.

    Perhaps that change would be the end of their kingdom. ¡°After all,¡± many asked, ¡°without the dragon, how will we protect ourselves from Vollachia?¡±

    But that pessimism wasn¡¯t common. Most knew that Lugunica had survived against the empire for hundreds of years before the Divine Dragon entered a contract with them. With strong will and good fortune, perhaps they would last hundreds more.

    <hr>

    Fourier stood still, his arms lifted out to the side. Servants flitted around him, carefully layering ceremonial robes over his shoulders, applying makeup to his face, and one was even manicuring his hands.

    Fourier didn¡¯t think anyone was going to be close enough to even see the careful adjustments to his nails¡¯ length, but he didn¡¯t interrupt. It was an important day, and his caretakers wanted to be absolutely certain he looked his best.

    So he tried to relax and ignore their fussing, instead letting his mind wander.

    Of course, as soon as he did that, it went straight to his current topic of concern.

    Perhaps I could coax a company in from Kararagi? That would certainly help fund our efforts, but there¡¯s no way they would be willing to enter the Lugunican market unless they can see a clear profit for doing so.

    He tilted his head in thought, only to draw a noise of complaint from the servant doing his makeup.

    He gave a look of apology as he straightened himself, but the servant had already gone back to their tools.

    I¡¯ll think about it. Maybe I can have someone look into it.

    Two faces flashed through his mind at the thought, those belonging to a green-haired noble and a cat-eared knight.

    But he dismissed the possibility as soon as it arose. His two closest friends had their own issues to take care of, and Julius was in a much better position to begin such negotiations. Fourier had only thought of the duo because he wanted to see them.

    The three of them had seldom had a moment''s rest after the events of the riot and Fourier¡¯s second curse. Lately, with all the preparations going on, they hadn¡¯t had the time to meet up for more than a few hours a week.

    In the aftermath of the assassination attempt, they had stuck together like glue, with Crusch organising the city garrison and her soldiers to aid the rebuilding efforts, and Ferris bringing Fourier¡¯s body back to good health and removing the last vestiges of the curse.

    Roswaal had double checked his apprentice¡¯s work, but had not found any issue with Ferris¡¯s healing. In fact, he had proclaimed that his own magic would not have even been effective, as the new curse had been markedly different from the previous one.

    The court mage hadn¡¯t stayed long, departing to handle ¡®several important matters¡¯ before promising that they would meet again in the future.

    In the months since, Fourier had only exchanged letters with the man, while Ferris had taken several breaks to go visit him. Chances were, however, that meetings with the irksome Margrave would remain infrequent, as many matters demanded his personal attention at the border. The Margrave had stayed in the capital for a much longer duration than ever before, and Fourier expected a return to the prior state of affairs.

    That had left Ferris alone to ensure Fourier remained healthy, which had initially thrilled him but had rapidly spiralled out of his control.

    At first, Ferris had split his time between both Crusch and himself, and even bedridden time spent with either of his closest friends was something to be cherished. However things had taken a turn for the worse when Ferris had decided that while the two of them were reckless, Crusch could at least be trusted to handle her normal duties while she recovered.

    Fourier, on the other hand¡­

    He couldn¡¯t exactly blame his knight. His lifeforce had been severely damaged in the battle between the curse and the dragonic mana, but he still felt that Ferris had overreacted by confining him to his quarters for so many weeks.

    Much of that time had been spent sleeping. His injuries caused him to feel excessively tired,  and Fourier was sure that Ferris contributed to it, using just a hint of sleeping compulsion to ensure Fourier slept far more often than he thought necessary.

    But life went on. They¡¯d find a way to keep going.

    The servant doing his makeup took a final look, waving the brush over his features one last time, then finally withdrew. Fourier stretched, not moving so much that he¡¯d disturb the ceremonial robes, but enough to get his blood flowing.

    ¡°Your Majesty, there¡¯s still some time before the procession is set to begin,¡± one of the other servants said, walking over to him, but not looking up from the papers he was carrying. ¡°There have been a small number of last-minute adjustments to the route, as the knights are concerned about the narrowness of some of the streets. They¡¯ve already begun clearing the new route.¡±

    Fourier nodded. ¡°That¡¯s fine. Will they be ready for us if we go to the procession now?¡±

    The servant nodded. ¡°Of course, Your Majesty. Lady Crusch is already there.¡±

    Fourier nodded, and began walking, waving his hand to order the servants and bodyguards to follow him.

    It took a fair amount of time to reach the palace entrance, but it was an uneventful trip. The palace¡¯s great hallways and grand staircases only served to amplify the echoes of their footsteps, making the place feel emptier than it usually did.

    Hopefully one day soon, they¡¯d be able to employ the full amount of servants to take care of it.

    Once they got closer to the entrance, the loneliness of the building began to fade away, as numerous servants scurried to and fro, trying to get everything ready, making sure absolutely everything was perfect.

    No one wanted the day to be anything but a resounding success.

    After all, it was the day that they would have a king again. It was Fourier¡¯s coronation day.

    Much fuss had been made of how the day would go. They had no dragon maiden to crown him, no Dragon to oversee the crowning, and they did not even feel like they could use the traditional spot, located as it was on church grounds.

    Fourier had spent many evenings staying up late into the night, consulting with the elders and the scholars of Lugunican history, trying to find records of how succession was handled in the time before the Dragon.

    It seemed that before the forty-first king, the kings had usually been crowned by an older member of the royal family, usually the previous king if he had abdicated, but sometimes an uncle or aunt.

    Fourier didn¡¯t have any of those left, and though there was some royal blood in the lines of several noble families, none were related closely enough to consider having them crown him.

    Failing that, they had tried to determine if there was anyone in the kingdom well-respected enough that the citizenry would accept them crowning their king.

    Miklotov had been the first name that had been brought up as an option, only for the man himself to request other alternatives be looked at first.

    Fourier had later asked for a private meeting to determine why that must be the case, only to be disappointed with the answer.

    Miklotov had burned a lot of political capital putting out the various fires that had occurred due to the Divine Dragon¡¯s death, especially since to many he seemed almost like a mouthpiece for Fourier himself. Normally the man would have stayed a bit more neutral to appeal to all sides, but the matter had been urgent enough that he¡¯d stepped in.

    Allowing another candidate to be chosen would hopefully signify enough of a distance to regain those lost allies in time, but for now it left Fourier without his best option.

    They had considered several other options in the months leading up to the coronation.

    Someone had suggested that they get a well-respected noble to do it, of which there were only a few, chief among them being Roswaal.

    Fourier had sent the invitation out to him, and received just two words in response.

    ¡®I refuse.¡¯

    Fourier had expected that answer, but he still had gotten a chuckle out of it when Julius had read the letter out.

    There had been a handful of other possibilities, but the only other serious contender had been Reinhard. He was well-liked, and many in the kingdom even worshipped him, although not to the same extent as the dragon. But many had felt that course of action would be unwise, with the Treasurer particularly against it.

    Fourier himself had decided to veto the possibility. Reinhard would do it if he was asked to and wouldn¡¯t offer a word of complaint, but Fourier knew the Sword Saint would hate it.

    With the established powers all being unavailable, the next best choice would have been an upcoming power, in order to help secure it for the crown. The Church would have been an excellent choice had Jaune still been alive, as it¡¯d been rapidly swelling in support. But after their god¡¯s death, the faith in the church had been shattered, and Jaune, the only one who may have been able to salvage the situation, was missing. His body had not been found, but Fourier didn¡¯t think it likely that he had survived the explosion of the Divine Dragon¡¯s obelisk.

    Fourier felt a surge of pity whenever he thought about the man. He had likely died without ever realising that he was being controlled by forces hostile to the kingdom.

    Even his life¡¯s work in improving the church was falling apart, as while a replacement bishop had been named, he fell far short of Jaune himself. The short, portly man hadn¡¯t been someone Fourier had interacted with before. They had barely spoken since their first meeting, and he hadn¡¯t returned to the palace since. From what Fourier had heard, he was busy trying to salvage what remained of the central church and reassure the remaining faithful.

    Fourier did not envy his task at all. It seemed very likely he would be the last bishop, and at times it seemed he was merely trying to make the church¡¯s collapse as gentle as possible.

    He frowned.

    Thinking of the church always brought up thoughts of her. And thinking of her always made his mood sour.

    <hr>

    Footsteps reverberated through the desolate passage, leading to one of their most isolated dungeons. Fourier''s grim stride steadily carried him forward alone, as Ferris followed him from a  respectful distance away.

    ¡°Ferris, we¡¯ll be arriving in only a few minutes, you can stop hanging back,¡± Fourier announced, voice harsh.

    Ferris''s ears flattened against his skull, but he increased his pace until he was right beside Fourier.

    Pausing for a moment, Fourier turned, his gaze softening as he rested an arm on Ferris''s shoulder.

    "Ferris, it''s imperative that you don''t avert your gaze, Melty will be looking at you first, and if we truly want to help her, this is an important first step," Fourier said sternly.

    ¡°But I thought you hated her, Fourier?¡± Ferris asked, head tilting slightly.

    ¡°I do, to have the worst of my suspicions confirmed and to find out that the riots and all the death and misery they caused was due to one person¡­¡± Fourier¡¯s hand clenched involuntarily, nails puncturing his flesh with the familiar sting, slowly drawing him back to the present.

    ¡°It damaged even my trust in my instincts, as people I knew, I could trust betrayed me one by one. Worse yet, it even made me betray Jaune in a way.¡± Fourier said tiredly.

    ¡°In what way exactly did you betray him?¡± Ferris asked angrily.

    ¡°Simple. I left him to die,¡± Fourier said flatly, ¡°I won¡¯t pretend that it wasn¡¯t the right call, or that I¡¯d make a different decision even if I¡¯d known the truth when I abandoned him, but it¡¯s still painful.¡±

    For a few seconds they moved in silence, before Fourier surprised Ferris by smiling.

    ¡°But, even in the darkest moments, people can find things to find pride in. Ferris, your decision to allow Melty to surrender was incredible.¡± Fourier said, crimson eyes meeting yellow, as he poured out his resolve.

    ¡°In this world of ours, it¡¯s far too easy to meet violence with violence, and hatred with hatred. But you broke that cycle by offering Melty mercy, which is the only reason we managed to prevent the riots from becoming a full blown civil war.¡±

    ¡°You''re exaggerating,¡± Ferris denied, eyes fixed towards the ground. ¡°Melty didn¡¯t have anywhere near enough slaves for a war.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t,¡± Fourier agreed slowly, but rolled his eyes when Ferris remained silent. ¡°But it¡¯s not as if she needed to be anything more than a trigger. Our forces were exhausted and were starting to take significant casualties when they stepped down. At best, we¡¯d have lost many innocent victims whose only crime was being brainwashed. At worst, all the blood could have broken down any sense of remaining good will and led to a far longer conflict, even among the people who hadn¡¯t been brainwashed.¡±

    Pausing, the young king allowed the silence to linger for several seconds, until Ferris finally broke it.

    ¡°I only did it because I knew it¡¯s what you¡¯d want. If it was up to me, I¡¯d have likely crippled her, or at least attempted to force the issue with my magic,¡± Ferris whispered, looking away.

    ¡°I know, but do you really think that I wouldn¡¯t do the same?¡± Fourier asked, smile widening as he muffled a chuckle.

    ¡°We all wonder what the people who we look up to would do in the situations we find ourselves in. I wonder all the time what you, or Crusch would do when I¡¯m in difficult situations, just like I wonder what my Father would have done if he¡¯d still been here,¡± Fourier confided, eyes growing serious once more.

    ¡°In the end however, it isn¡¯t our memories of others that make the final decision. In that moment the one who made the decision which helped save our Kingdom was you, Ferris, no one else.¡±

    Scratching his cheek, Ferris desperately changed the subject.

    ¡°You managed to rescue Melty¡¯s entire family right? Are we going to move her to a less isolated prison and allow them to visit her?¡± Ferris pondered, ears rising as he narrowed his eyes.

    ¡°Our knights succeeded in their mission,¡± Fourier confirmed. ¡°That¡¯s part of why I¡¯m coming with you is to tell her the news. But the other part is to see her for myself so that I can consider just how much I¡¯m willing to trust her myself.¡±

    ¡°Please tell me you''re not considering pardoning her,¡± Ferris begged, clapping his hands together. ¡°That¡¯ll burn even more political capital, far more than she deserves. I feel stupid for even having to ask, since I know you really don¡¯t like her, but something like that would be right up your alley.¡±

    ¡°Well, something like that,¡± Fourier admitted with a quiet chuckle. ¡°If we can genuinely trust her, then we¡¯ll have her work together with some of our barrier teams, to create a metia that can detect her ¡®Evil Eye¡¯ ability, as well as its aftermath. Something like the one for detecting the Protection of Mind Changing. It has been passed down for hundreds of years, but we¡¯ve never managed to create another metia like it since.¡±

    ¡°Sadly, without something like that, even I''m not reckless enough to give her complete freedom anytime soon. But that won¡¯t be a problem. There¡¯s only one person in our kingdom who has the requisite skills with metias to have a hope of creating one of this magnitude.¡±

    Trailing off, Fourier waited for Ferris to erupt, and he wasn¡¯t disappointed.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t seriously proposing risking Teacher?¡± Ferris questioned before narrowing his eyes. ¡°I know that you have your issues with him, but risking one of your most loyal and competent subjects doesn¡¯t strike me as wise.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not proposing to give her complete free reign with Roswaal,¡± Fourier acknowledged with a nod. ¡°However, should we think her ready to take the first steps, then moving her to his primary manor¡¯s hold, with improved accommodations, doesn''t strike me as a bad idea. Especially since over the long run, nothing guarantees that the Evil Eye Tribe won¡¯t interfere with the kingdom again, especially should they do so after we are all gone.¡±

    ¡°I suppose¡­¡± Ferris said reluctantly before his eyes lit up. ¡°You know, Royal Guards are granted a certain amount of leave every month.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± Fourier moaned, covering his face as he fought off a headache. ¡°That leave is solely in place because the majority of the Royal Guards are nobility and have to occasionally handle things at their estates.¡±

    ¡°If you''re going to be endangering Teacher, then I think it¡¯s only reasonable that I check up on him every month,¡± Ferris said, warming up to the idea. ¡°Teacher did mention that if I was ever in the area I should visit anyways.¡±

    ¡°I suppose so,¡± Fourier admitted grudgingly. ¡°I have Julius by my side, and the insect controller has been killed. I can do without you for a few days every month. It might even be for the best, it could help reassure the council.¡±

    ¡°Still, I know I¡¯m the one that told you to make new friends¡­ but did it have to be that man of all people?¡± Fourier complained under his breath.

    Before Ferris could retort, Fourier sped up his pace as they reached the cell.

    Judging by the look in Ferris¡¯s eyes, he¡¯d regret that dig later, but for now both focused on the lone figure in the cell.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡ª It¡¯s an honour to meet you in person again, Your Majesty,¡± Melty stammered, hurriedly bowing and just barely avoiding turning it into a faceplant.

    ¡°Melty Pristis. Although we¡¯ve met once before, it was under false pretences,¡± Fourier stated, voice echoing through the small chamber. ¡°I would be lying if I said it was a pleasure to be here, however, your actions in surrendering and stopping the brainwashing at a crucial moment have earned you this much, at least.¡±

    ¡°No, not at all,¡± Melty said, shaking her head wildly. ¡°After I was captured, I was expecting to be thrown into some hole, before being tortured and killed at best. Especially after all the lives I ruined. Instead I was given a surgery that fixed my throat and then was given a bed far better than any I¡¯ve ever slept in, delicious rations, and even books to read for when I get bored.¡±

    Hesitating, the priestess looked at Ferris standing next to Fourier, before seeming to draw strength from the sight of his friend.

    ¡°Your Majesty, may I inquire about the state of my family?¡± Melty finally said, and finally met his eyes.

    Her amber eyes were full of tears, but in them Fourier could spot the resolve that Ferris had brought forth blazing strongly.

    ¡°My Knights have rescued all of them,¡± Fourier began, before making his decision. ¡°They¡¯ll be allowed to visit you in a week or two after they have been settled, although of course Ferris will have to check them after that¡¯s been accomplished.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Melty croaked, the tears starting to stream down her face. ¡°That¡¯s so much more than I deserve, Your Majesty. If there¡¯s anything I can do in return¡ª¡±

    ¡°Funny you should mention that,¡± Fourier said dryly, before using what he¡¯d dubbed his announcement voice.

    ¡°I¡¯ve decided that in two months'' time, you¡¯ll be moved over to another prison, one located with our best Metia creator. There you¡¯ll be tasked with coming up with a way to detect your Evil Eye together, along with helping less skilled healers come up with ways to detect and reverse the effects.¡±

    ¡°Assuming that you continue to do your best while there, your family will be allowed to visit you on occasion while you reside there, and should you succeed, I can promise a royal pardon for the crimes you committed,¡± Fourier finished, and silence reigned for several seconds as Ferris starred in resignation and Melty in shock.

    ¡°Your Majesty?¡± Melty whispered, as a brilliant smile slowly formed. ¡°I promise, I¡¯ll do my best.¡±

    Nodding one final time, the young king turned and strode out, purposely keeping his pace slow as he strained his ears.

    It was perhaps a tad mean spirited, but he really wanted to know what the two of them would say if left alone.

    ¡°I heard you call the rations delicious,¡± Ferris finally said, and he could imagine the way he¡¯d shake his head.

    ¡°They are the best things I can remember ever having tasted,¡± Melty reported happily. ¡°They were a little uncomfortable to eat at first with my throat still sore, but it was amazing the way I felt fulfilled afterwards.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing the person who made your throat like that did it years ago,¡± Ferris said, voice tight with anger.

    ¡°It¡¯s been several years.¡± Melty confirmed. ¡°However, while I couldn¡¯t swallow food, occasionally if there was extra food no-one wanted, I¡¯d chew on it for a while before spitting it out. It was a bit of a waste, but it would have been thrown out anyways.¡±

    Fourier couldn¡¯t help but flinch at the sound of flesh meeting rock, as he suspected Ferris had just punched a wall.

    ¡°Ferris, are you alright?¡± Melty questioned desperately.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Ferris gritted out. ¡°Something like that is nothing for me, but what I can¡¯t understand is how you can say something like that with that stupid smile still on your face.¡±

    ¡°Ferris¡­¡± Melty said sadly before falling silent.

    ¡°Or maybe the truth is that I can understand far too easily, and just don¡¯t want to. If it wasn¡¯t for Lady Crusch I¡­¡± Ferris began before sighing loudly.

    ¡°Before Lady Crusch, I was starved regularly by my relatives so I can understand the feeling of hunger gnawing at you, until any food tastes better than the imagination can capture. But what I can¡¯t imagine, is how you were even remotely accepting of something like that. Even back then, I was planning on killing my family if I ever got the chance, and only stopped because of Lady Crusch, but you¡­¡±

    ¡°What good would it do for me to ponder vengeance?¡± Melty whispered, before her voice grew stronger. ¡°Never mind that though, if you''re not going to heal your hand already, give it to me. I promise I¡¯ll heal it, Ferris.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± Ferris reply back was icy, and his footstep loud, Feeling a touch guilty, Fourier finally started walking once more as well, and before long Ferris caught up.

    One look at the smaller man and it was clear he knew about Fourier¡¯s eavesdropping, so in return for skipping a lecture, Fourier opted not to bring up the split knuckles still leaking the occasional drop of blood that Ferris was ignoring.

    <hr>

    Sighing, Fourier forced his mind onto less depressing memories. After their unsuccessful search for candidates, Miklotov had finally come around and agreed to crown him.

    It had required Fourier to raise the possibility of crowning himself to his elderly advisor.

    Surprisingly, he had actually been considering the same idea. It had precedence as the progenitor of their Kingdom, the very first king of Lugunica, had done the same, but sadly, it was the worst of their available options. A monarch to crown themselves was considered the height of arrogance, and Fourier had not done anything that would justify that arrogance.

    Eventually even Miklotov himself had conceded that for this ceremony it would be best if he officiated it and handed over the crown. It would partially rob him of his ability to handle the Sage Counsel, but it would reassure the public.

    Part of the process of ensuring less focus was given to Miklotov specifically, was the decision to finally announce his engagement to Crusch to the public.

    The idea that the whole kingdom would finally know the truth of their engagement made goosebumps start to rise, but it also was a thrill. Every time he¡¯d seen Crusch since their engagement he¡¯d had to fight the urge to embrace her, and had to settle simply for a smile anytime they were in public.

    He¡¯d even asked Ferris for tips on how to better hide his feelings, only for his friend to cruelly shoot him down.

    Anyone with eyes already knows you''re infatuated with Crusch. Hiding your feelings now, would make it clear something¡¯s changed.

    Shaking his head, Fourier refocused as he exited the palace¡¯s grand doorway, lifting a hand to shield himself from the sun while his eyes adjusted.

    Slowly, the carriages came into focus, including one large carriage that Fourier had always seen as unwieldy and extreme.

    It was wide enough that it could be pulled by four ground dragons abreast, and it was so large that it would need all four to move. It had no roof, and the centre was raised above the rest, so Fourier would be able to smile and wave within sight of everyone.

    There was a seat he could use if he got tired, but he had recovered most of his health and energy since the attacks. He could afford to stand for a few hours to make sure his citizens got the best look at him possible.

    He lowered his hand, and made his way down the steps.

    The servants scurried around, making sure everything was ready, but Fourier could see they had done an admirable job.

    He reached the carriage, and with a hand from one of the knights assigned to be his bodyguard for the day, he pulled himself up so he stood on the dais.

    ¡°We¡¯re ready to go when you give the word,¡± the knight said. ¡°However, I would prefer to wait a few minutes for the messenger from Marcos to get back. They may have finalised the new route.¡±

    Fourier nodded. ¡°Do what you think is best. Do you know where Crusch is?¡±

    ¡°Here, Your Majesty,¡± a voice called up from the side of the carriage.

    Fourier looked down, and suddenly found himself struggling to meet the speaker¡¯s amber eyes.

    Crusch had forgone her usual soldier¡¯s uniform, and even the sword that usually hung at her hip was gone. In their place, she was wearing a black satin dress, with resplendent jewels around her neck and floral decorations holding up her ponytail.

    It was so at odds with her usual attire, but Fourier thought it suited her well. Her usual military uniform hid much of her more caring side, but Fourier had always been able to see past it.

    Although after Crusch¡¯s actions following the attack, it wasn¡¯t just him that recognized her compassion, but much of the kingdom.

    He hadn¡¯t expected that the news of her visit would spread like wildfire, but he was proud of the part he¡¯d played. Even if he had done it while under cover.

    He couldn¡¯t help but smile at the thought. It hadn¡¯t been nearly as hard as he had expected to join her on that day, but perhaps his friends had sensed that there was no way he was going to be left out.

    <hr>

    ¡°How do I look? Stunningly attractive I hope,¡± Fourier asked, performing a quick spin as he studied his mirror.

    ¡°You look as graceful as ever, Your Majesty,¡± Julius said, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned against the wall. ¡°However, it may be wise to avoid spinning and pirouetting while Ferris is away. Even I would not escape the scolding that is sure to follow, should he find out that you tripped while still on bed-rest.¡±

    ¡°I think at this point, I have enough experience pushing my body through crisis that I know when to stop!¡± Fourier exclaimed, spreading his arms widely and puffing out his chest.

    He held the position for a moment, Julius simply looking on in judgemental silence.

    The knight broke first, looking away and shaking his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that those incidents are more likely to lead to the opposite conclusion, Your Majesty.¡±

    Fourier smiled, dropping his arms and relaxing his muscles.

    ¡°Perhaps you¡¯re right, but there will always be times when a man must push himself a little, and when his beloved visits is as fine a time as any,¡± he declared, crimson eyes burning with passion.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Julius echoed.

    A smile rose on his lips, tinged with mischievousness, and he looked back at Fourier.

    ¡°However I would expect such a man to be capable of waking up, by themselves rather than needing to be prodded awake.¡±

    ¡°Even you, Julius!¡±

    Sinking to his knees in defeat, Fourier clutched his heart dramatically. ¡°To think even my sworn knight would betray me, truly I am assaulted on all fronts.¡±

    Julius let out a chuckle, but then he cut off, his eyes flicking to the side to look at something only he could see.

    ¡°You may want to rise, Fourier,¡± he said as a green spirit¡¯s cheery presence lit up beside him. ¡°Alo tells me Crusch will arrive momentarily.¡±

    Eyes widening, Fourier rose and quickly smoothed out the wrinkles formed as he heard the approaching footsteps.

    Julius, too, transformed, abandoning what little leeway he had given himself, once more shifting into the perfect knight.

    ¡°No need to be so stiff, Julius,¡± Fourier scolded, knowing that the knight would ignore his words. His knight would allow himself to relax somewhat when it was just the two of them, but at all other times, he still conducted himself as the Finest Knight.

    He opened the door to reveal Crusch, dressed once more in her usual military attire.

    ¡°Your Majesty, it¡¯s good to see you standing again,¡± Crusch greeted with a smile. ¡°The last time we met, Ferris wouldn¡¯t even allow you to get out of bed.¡±

    ¡°He worries too much,¡± Fourier said with a wave of his hand, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Ferris still wanted him to remain in bed as much as possible.

    He took a step closer and grasped her hands in his own. ¡°Besides, just seeing you, it gives me enough energy to fight a thousand battles! Nay, a million!¡±

    ¡°Is that so? It¡¯s good to hear your recovery is making such fast progress,¡± Crusch allowed, her smile widening.

    Then she turned to Julius. ¡°Before today, how long has His Majesty been spending out of bed?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I couldn¡¯t say, Lady Crusch,¡± Julius began, refusing to meet Fourier¡¯s desperate eyes. ¡°However I¡¯ll note that other than maintaining his duties, His Majesty has spent all his time dedicated to recovering for the past few weeks, save your scheduled visits.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Is that interfering with his recovery? Perhaps I should visit less?¡± Crusch asked. She spoke calmly, but from the slight tightening of her grip, Fourier could tell the idea displeased her.

    ¡°Of course not,¡± he declared, her amber eyes meeting his. ¡°Every time I see you, I put that much more effort into recovering as soon as possible. You can even ask Ferris if you don¡¯t believe me. If anything you should be visiting me more!¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t quite how recovering works for most people,¡± Crusch said with a soft chuckle. ¡°However I wouldn¡¯t put it past you to do so. Although I think I really will have to ask Ferris to make certain.¡±

    ¡°From what I¡¯ve heard, you¡¯ve been out of bed regularly yourself,¡± Fourier noted, raising an eyebrow. ¡°I wonder if I should also ask Ferris if you should have been taking work so soon.¡±

    ¡°Thankfully, Ferris has already fully healed my physical wounds,¡± Crusch said. ¡°My gate will take longer, but so long as I avoid using mana and continue my sessions with Ferris, it will heal in time. Staying active does me no harm. Can you say the same?¡±

    ¡°I can''t,¡± Fourier admitted, the words coming out slow and forced, before strengthening once more. ¡°However, I¡¯m proud of the choices I¡¯ve made. I wouldn¡¯t be myself if I didn¡¯t push myself for something like this.¡±

    ¡°You truly are a handful at times, Fourier,¡± Crusch said, trying to sound disappointed, but her smile brightened as she spoke the words, and Fourier felt himself fall in love all over again.

    He coughed and looked away, desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject.

    As he moved his head, he spotted Julius hiding a chuckle in the corner. Mentally, he lambasted the knight whose smile became just a tinge to smug. He swore that should a time ever come where Julius wanted to change the subject, he absolutely would not allow it.

    ¡°Judging from your comments on my workload,¡± he began anyway, his face growing warm, ¡°I take it Ferris has filled you in on what I¡¯ve been doing lately. But I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve been up to. How have you been? Anything you need royal help with?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve mostly been dealing with the aftermath,¡± Crusch said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°In particular, I¡¯ve been assisting my father in hiring many of the Karsten engineers to take a look at the buildings that burned down, to see what can be repaired and what needs to be demolished. Watching my father deal with his contacts shows that even though I¡¯m head of the family, I still have a ways to go in forging contracts.¡±

    Smile dimming, Crusch continued, ¡°In addition¡­ there¡¯s one more duty that I¡¯ve inherited that I will need to deal with soon, now that the ashes have been collected.¡±

    ¡°Ashes?¡± Fourier murmured, then he paled as he made the connection. ¡°If you''re dealing with that matter personally, then I¡¯d like to join you if possible.¡±

    ¡°Join me?¡± Crusch repeated, a rare look of bafflement crossing her face. ¡°Your Majesty, while I appreciate the gesture, I¡¯m afraid it¡¯d likely backfire. At best it would change the gesture to be one of appeasing the masses, and at worst it may very well damage your reputation.¡±

    ¡°That''s¡­¡± Fourier said, trailing off as he himself came to the same conclusion. ¡°So what!¡± Fourier said voice growing louder, before he forced himself under control. ¡°I want to be by your side, it¡¯s clear to me that this is important to you.¡±

    Crusch didn¡¯t look swayed, so Fourier pushed his mind further, searching for a solution.

    ¡°And even, if Fourier Lugunica can¡¯t attend, that needn¡¯t apply to a nameless Karsten Knight.¡±

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    It took a moment for his words to sink in with his two companions, but they soon figured out his implication.

    ¡°Most knights don¡¯t wear helmets,¡± Julius said, a touch of resignation in his voice. ¡°It may be wiser for the both of us to disguise ourselves as soldiers or militiamen instead. With how busy the knights are, it would be perfectly believable for Lady Crusch to resort to their services instead.¡±

    Fourier beamed.

    ¡°See, even Julius supports the idea! While it dashes my dream to be your knight, I¡¯d be honoured to accompany you as a soldier instead,¡± Fourier said, seizing on the unanticipated support.

    ¡°With Julius by our side, we¡¯ll both be safer as well. While you may have recovered physically, even you¡¯d struggle to face multiple foe¡¯s with your swordsmanship alone. With only Julius and I attending you¡¯d even be able to cut down on the amount of guards you¡¯d need to bring, especially since most of the knights are still busy.¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty¡­¡± Crusch trailed off, a rare look of uncertainty crossing her face for but a moment.

    This wasn¡¯t the first time Fourier¡¯s recklessness had pushed him to involve himself, and so after gazing at him quietly for a few more seconds, she allowed her unspoken protests to fade.

    Instead her face softened, and the fearsome general faded away to leave only the girl he¡¯d fallen in love with, her face twisted with indecision.

    She clearly didn¡¯t want to drag Fourier away from the palace, away from the protection of the knights and soldiers therein, but at the same time, Fourier could see she would appreciate his support.

    She spared a look at Julius, who gave a single, resolute, nod.

    ¡°Very well,¡± she said, a smile brightening her face. ¡°I will procure uniforms for the both of you. But please do try to avoid standing out too much.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°I never knew these militia uniforms could be so itchy,¡± Fourier complained quietly to Julius, just a few steps behind Crusch as they made their way through the marketplace.

    ¡°A good portion of it is simply due to them being new uniforms,¡± Julius noted calmly, his strong stance drawing eyes, even with the helmet. ¡°Once they¡¯ve been properly broken in, such issues would likely fade. In addition the uniforms aren¡¯t made with the same quality fabric you are used to.¡±

    ¡°Good to know. If nothing else, keeping this uniform and coming out by ourselves later on might not be a bad way to interact with the citizens,¡± Fourier mused, carefully eyeing his surroundings, at the marketplace that only spared brief glances at the three of them.

    He could have sworn he heard Julius sigh at that, but when he looked, Julius¡¯s posture was as elegant as ever. Much more so than Fourier¡¯s own stiff movements. He was even managing to carry the leather satchel at his side without it swaying.

    Fourier glanced between them, studying Julius¡¯s posture, trying to relax his arms and walk normally. He had been in armour before, but it wasn¡¯t something he was well-practised in.

    But he wouldn¡¯t give up. He had to do his best to commit to the role they¡¯d agreed to play to support Crusch.

    When they arrived at their destination, Crusch raised her hand to knock on the door. They were in a rather out of the way section of the area, where the streets were narrow, and the buildings poorly maintained.

    After a minute had passed since knocking with no response, the trio exchanged glances.

    ¡°Julius, can you detect anyone inside?¡± Fourier questioned wrinkling his nose as a particular smell finally hit him. The smell of strong and pungent alcohol drifted out of a nearby window, making him thankful for the stuffy mask for the first time. It may have been making him sweat, but at least he wasn¡¯t being subjected to the full power of the stench.

    ¡°There are two people inside the house. A child and an adult in separate rooms,¡± Julius reported with a frown.

    ¡°Should we come back later then?¡± Crusch wondered, clearly not wanting to disturb either occupant.

    ¡°If not for the smell of alcohol, I would agree,¡± Fourier said, tone darkening.

    ¡°A child should never be exposed to the sight of their parents under the influence. Usually the other parent or family friends would be able to look after the children, but¡­¡±

    But that wasn¡¯t always an option for those who had lived in the middle of the area scorched by the fire.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to ensure that the man can afford to leave the house without leaving his child unattended. If nothing else, the pension will be enough to hire a babysitter.¡±

    Frowning, Crusch nevertheless once more resumed knocking on the door, this time far louder.

    In seconds they heard a crash, and the sound of things being moved around before the door was wrenched open.

    Squinting through the light invading his home, the owner belted out a sour, ¡°What does some noble want with me?¡±

    Studying the man carefully, Fourier couldn¡¯t quite suppress his frown. The man was large, easily taller than both him and Julius, and as well muscled as some of his bulkier knights, and had a fierce face with a scar running by his eye. More than his size though, the man had an aura of sadness and anger about him as he stared the trio down.

    So this is her husband. Kadomon Risch.

    ¡°I¡¯ve come in response to a promise one of my knights made to your daughter,¡± Crusch said calmly, staring the man down. ¡°He had promised to return her body, should he be unable to save her.¡±

    Snarling, the man took a step forward, only for a smaller form to come bounding out of the house in a rush, as it clung to the man¡¯s leg.

    ¡°Is it Mom? Is she back yet?¡± the girl asked desperately as she eyed the strangers.

    Taking a deep breath, Kadomon suppressed his negative emotions and spoke in a soft and gentle voice. ¡°I¡¯m sorry sweetheart, but no, I still haven¡¯t gotten any news about your mother.¡±

    Shaking her head wildly, she spoke. ¡°I don¡¯t believe you! I heard the pretty lady say she was here because her knight promised!¡±

    Kneeling Crusch faced the little girl directly, ignoring the flash of rage that crossed the father¡¯s face. ¡°I am indeed here in response to that promise, it is a duty that I have inherited from Lucius himself. My knight perished working on the firebreak and was thus unable to handle this personally, but his final request was that I complete it on his behalf.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s discuss this inside,¡± Kadomon finally growled, glancing at their surroundings.

    That was a wise move, in Fourier¡¯s opinion. No crowd had gathered, but he could see movement in some of the surrounding windows. There was no need to discuss such devastating matters in front of an audience of curious onlookers.

    The house was tiny, even more so than Fourier would have thought having seen it from the outside.

    The man guided them to a table in the kitchen, and took a seat only for his daughter to jump in his lap.

    ¡°Darling, I¡¯m sorry but I need to talk with these people alone,¡± Kadomon said softly, any negative emotions hidden even from Fourier¡¯s gaze.

    It brought his opinion of the man up, while they had clearly found him in a bad moment, the man was still able to force himself to remain gentle around his daughter.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t allow that,¡± Crusch said, voice equally as soft. ¡°Your daughter needs to understand exactly what has happened, and I suspect it will be better coming from me.¡±

    ¡°Now wait just a¡­ darn moment¡± Kadomon says anger filling his expression for a moment, before he masked it once more. ¡°Plum¡¯s just a little girl, she¡ª¡±

    He cut off with a grunt as his daughter elbowed him in the ribs. He twisted to try and get some space, but she kept thrashing about.

    ¡°Shut up!¡± Plum shouted, her face growing red with anger. ¡°I¡¯ve been asking when mom is coming back forever, I won¡¯t let you stop me from finding out now!¡±

    ¡°Plum,¡± Kadomon said, holding his daughter and easily stopping her movement, as he carefully raised her to look her in the eye. ¡°After you find out, things will be different. I thought that maybe it¡¯d be better to get used to the changes we¡¯ve already had to deal with first.¡±

    ¡°If I may,¡± Crusch broached, breaking the stalemate between Father and Daughter. ¡°Plum, your father isn¡¯t wrong that things will change once you know the truth. However I can tell that you both fully believe in Plum¡¯s ability to understand and accept things.¡±

    Exchanging a glance with his daughter, Kadomon slowly exhaled as he slumped, allowing his daughter to fall into his lap once more.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± Plum stated bravely, yet Fourier¡¯s eyes could easily make out the slight shaking betraying the truth.

    ¡°Very well,¡± Crusch said, her voice terribly grave as she locked eyes with Plum. ¡°Your Mother is in the same place my Knight is now.¡±

    For several seconds everyone stood silent as Plum¡¯s shaking got worse.

    ¡°You''re lying!¡± Plum shouted. ¡°You¡¯re lying, you have to be lying! My mom can¡¯t die that easily, she promised me that she wouldn¡¯t leave me alone! Dad, tell me that she¡¯s lying!¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Kadomon hesitated off balance, but even that was enough to tell the girl the truth.

    Hopping off her Father¡¯s lap she ran to Crusch instead, and buried her face into her leg, chest heaving as she sobbed.

    Fourier found himself taking a step forward, but halted as Julius rested a hand on his shoulder, reminding him to allow Crusch to handle this.

    Pulling the girl up, Crusch gave Kadomon one last glance as she ascended the stairs carrying the girl away.

    Rising Kadomon stood, only for Julius to clear his throat.

    Kadomon froze, gaze conflicted, before with a sigh he allowed himself to also fall back into his seat.

    For a few seconds Fourier stayed quiet, feeling strangely out of place, wondering if his voice would shatter the strained piece, as all three of them listened to the sobbing that was slowly getting quieter.

    ¡°Plum isn¡¯t the only one who lost a mother far too young,¡± Fourier said quietly. ¡°Lady Crusch lost her mother to illness when she was even younger than your daughter was now. If anybody can relate to her and help her understand, I would believe in her.¡±

    ¡°Losing someone to illness is different,¡± Kadomon said, pain twisting his expression. ¡°As terrible as it is, there¡¯s no one to blame and you generally have time to come to terms with it. That fire¡­¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Fourier acknowledged, thinking back to how he felt when he had thought his family''s death had truly only been a disease. ¡°But Lady Crusch has a way of touching one¡¯s heart, and should that fail then it¡¯s better she direct her anger towards her than you. And I believe she was right.¡±

    Kadomon gave him a questioning look, and Fourier clarified. ¡°You believe Plum will be able to handle it. For what little it¡¯s worth, I believe that as well. And¡­ well, the only other option would be to lie to her, and string out her hope until she finally figures it out. In my opinion, that path would be far crueller.¡±

    Fourier left his own worries unsaid, a part of him wanted to bound up the stairs and give his own attempt to cheer up the grieving girl, and the worst part was he suspected he¡¯d succeed if he tried. It had always been left unsaid among the trio, but Fourier had always been by far the most gifted among the three at making friends and it wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d dealt with a depressed individual.

    But this wasn¡¯t about him, and as cruel as it made him feel, it wasn¡¯t truly about Plum either to him. This was about Crusch, and he needed to have faith that she¡¯d be able to do a wonderful job helping Plum as well. And as he closed his eyes and remembered Ferris, he found that faith coming back to him.

    ¡°Lady Crusch will help your daughter,¡± Fourier repeated, any doubt gone as faced Kadomon. ¡°So allow me to ask you directly, will you be alright?¡±

    ¡°Me?¡± Kadomon repeated, a touch of surprise entering his voice. ¡°I can take care of myself if you can''t tell, kid.¡±

    ¡°Kid?¡± Fourier repeated, completely thrown off for a second. This wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d gone undercover, he¡¯d done it before a few times even when he was just the fourth prince, but few would call someone who wielded a sword a diminutive, so it was a new experience. Repeating it quietly to himself once more, he felt a twisted delight shoot through him.

    Clearly he was so good at being disguised, that he was even fooling Kadomon about his age. Beaming inside the helmet, he stared at the man with a bright smile, his tone having completely caught the man off guard.

    ¡°I mean, Sir?¡± Kadomon backtracked, clearly unnerved by both Julius¡¯s silent menace and Fourier¡¯s delight.

    ¡°Sir¡¯s fine,¡± Fourier said, masking the rising disappointment, before he cleared his throat and refocused.

    ¡°Kadomon, I say this with no offence meant,¡± he began, allowing his hesitation to bleed into his tone to blunt his words. ¡°But much of this house reeks of alcohol, thankfully seeing just how good you are with your daughter, most of my worries have been put to rest, but¡­ Will you be OK taking care of her, while drinking such¡­ swill?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Kadomon said slowly, before hanging his head.  ¡°Ah hell, if even someone like you can tell, perhaps I really have been hitting the bottles too hard lately. It¡¯s just¡­¡±

    ¡°While no one here disputes how great your loss is,¡± Julius finally said as he broke his own silence, ¡°your daughter will need you to be at your best. She will be looking to you for guidance on how to channel her own grief, if you should decide the best way to handle that is with alcohol¡­¡±

    ¡°Gah!¡± Kadomon exclaimed, burying his face in his arms. ¡°I get it, I get it. Geez you guys sure do like to hit below the belt.¡±

    Fourier felt his smile soften. Kadomon might look rough, but it was clear just how much he cared for his daughter, the fact that he¡¯d changed his mind with so little prodding showed just how little support he must have been given to have fallen this far at all.

    Hearing footsteps the three turned and saw Crusch alone, walk into the room, her normally pristine shirt covered with snot and other fluids.

    ¡°Ah geez, I should have some rags to clean that,¡± Kadomon said as he waved her to take his seat.

    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. One of my soldiers likes to carry hankerchiefs,¡± Crusch said, her smile striking Fourier straight in the heart when he saw the vaguely maternal look.

    ¡°I like to be prepared,¡± Julius demurred, even as he reached out to his pouch and pulled out one of several handkerchiefs he¡¯d taken to carrying around. Most of them were older, but he¡¯d claimed his favourite was one his younger brother had bought for him.

    Crusch took it in hand, then wiped off most of Plum¡¯s tears, then nodded to Julius.

    The knight swivelled the satchel at his side, and carefully took out a decorated ceramic urn, placing it on the table in front of her.

    ¡°This contains your wife''s ashes,¡± Crusch said, pushing the decorated urn towards the heartbroken man. ¡°As you may know, anyone who has lost a family member is entitled a pension by the palace in order to remain stable. In addition, since my knight¡¯s final request involved your daughter, I¡¯ve included an additional pension from the Karsten estate and am prepared to offer your daughter a writ of employment at the estate in the future, should she ever need it.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate it,¡± Kadomon replied slowly, hands clenched by his side. ¡°The extra money and the writ should be able to help Plum in the future, and I¡¯ll make sure to take care of this too¡±

    Kadomon¡¯s hand reached towards the urn before slowly bringing it back to his chest. The trio silently allowed the man a moment to grieve, and only turned back when they heard the sound of the urn returning to the table.

    ¡°I guess the rumours are true after all,¡± Kadomon admitted grudgingly. ¡°You really do have a heart of gold.¡±

    ¡°Well, it seems the rumour mills are still spinning unrealistic tales,¡± Crusch noted with an amused smile. ¡°I wonder what I¡¯ve done to gain such attention.¡±

    ¡°Ha, you''re joking,¡± Kadomon said with a weak smile of his own. ¡°Everyone¡¯s heard about the noble lady who got put in charge of our capital¡¯s guards and ended up turning everything upside down. I haven¡¯t had to worry about thieves for months.¡±

    ¡°I was only upholding the duty I was assigned,¡± Crusch brushed off.

    The conversation trailed off there. Fourier felt compelled to speak up and fill the silence, but really, there was nothing more to say.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be taking my leave then,¡± Crusch finally said. ¡°I wish you the best in future endeavours.¡±

    Fourier felt conflicted as they left. His mind had been scrambling the entire time, trying to come up with the solution that would help the man and his daughter the most.

    But eventually he had to face reality. They were already doing everything they could. Only time would be able to heal the two now.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Crusch said abruptly. ¡°I underestimated how difficult that was going to be, especially since you must have used most of the personal time you¡¯ve allocated.¡±

    ¡°It was something I was happy to do,¡± Fourier said, waving it off with a smile. ¡°Now you can better understand just how much having you and Ferris near me can help with difficult decisions. It was nice to be able to focus on helping you for once rather than always being the one helped. Sadly as much as I¡¯d love to spend more time with you, I¡¯m afraid you''re right in that I¡¯ve used most of my self-allocated free time.¡±

    As they reached the next intersection, Crusch departed with one final smile, before Julius led him to a small guard¡¯s outpost so that they could finally shed their heavy disguises. Just having the weight gone, allowed Fourier to finally loosen his tight posture as he leaned against the wall.

    ¡°Do you think you¡¯ll have recovered enough to stand straight once we reach your office?¡± Julius asked, worry shining in his eyes.

    ¡°Who do you think you''re asking?¡± Fourier responded, allowing a smirk to form. ¡°If I¡¯m visibly tired when I meet up with Ferris, I¡¯ll have to deal with another lecture. So I¡¯ll just have to recover before then.¡±

    <hr>

    Quietly Fourier carefully strode forward doing his best to avoid attention as he neared his chambers, Julius right behind him who effortlessly matched his pace.

    It¡¯d taken a lot of effort, and some breaks with Julius keeping a lookout, but he¡¯d managed to use his knowledge of the guards schedules to just barely keep the two of them from being found out.

    Opening his door with a smile, he giddily took one step inside before freezing as the worst case scenario manifested itself.

    Ferris stood at the foot of his bed, a smile that promised suffering on his face.

    He spun around, but before he could flee he ran into the issue of Julius inadvertently blocking the doorway, robbing him of the opportunity as Ferris grabbed him. Instantly he felt tired as Ferris, healed the physical strain, at the cost of his limited energy.

    ¡°Ferris,¡± Julius said, voice sounding a touch exasperated, even as he supported Fourier¡¯s body with practised ease.

    ¡°So, are you going to tell me what exactly you¡¯ve been doing instead of resting?¡± Ferris said, ignoring Julius and staring down Fourier. ¡°I was pretty pleased to see you finally schedule a break for some rest, but I should have known you¡¯d just use it as an opportunity to do something that you wouldn¡¯t otherwise be able to book. So what was it this time? Another secret visit to see how construction is going?¡±

    ¡°Ah well, that is to say¡­¡± Fourier began, shifting back and forth making sure to avoid Ferris¡¯s penetrating glare. ¡°It¡¯s as you suspected, me and Julius went on another trip where my identity needed to be concealed I¡¯m afraid.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Ferris said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°And exactly why did this secret visit require armour, rather than that stupid cloak you''re so fond of?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Fourier asked, keeping his face neutral and quirking his brow.

    ¡°Playing stupid huh?¡± Ferris asked, ¡°While I hate to discourage you from what comes naturally, you should know by now that you''re never going to win. As your healer, I¡¯ll always notice, and I can tell that the strain you¡¯ve put on your muscle could only come from wearing something heavy, most likely armour.¡±

    For a second, Fourier tried to think up some kind of witty excuse, but from the look on Ferris¡¯s face, he¡¯d only be digging his grave deeper.

    ¡°You win, Ferris,¡± Fourier admitted. ¡°I needed to go undercover as a guardsman so I could accompany Crusch on a task.¡±

    ¡°Lady Crusch?¡± Ferris repeated, sounding exasperated. ¡°Somehow I suspect that she didn¡¯t know the toll putting that armour would cause you, did she?¡±

    ¡°She knew,¡± Fourier denied. ¡°It¡¯s just that it was important to the both of us that I be there. I don¡¯t regret it at all.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t huh?¡± Ferris said smile darkening. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to fix that.¡±

    ¡°Now Ferris, let''s be reasonable,¡± Fourier said, shrinking back. ¡°She¡¯s my fiance, so naturally I have to accompany her for important matters.¡±

    ¡°Considering you went undercover, rather than go in person, I somehow doubt anyone would expect that,¡± Ferris said dryly. ¡°Plus, the fact that she¡¯s your fiance is not exactly public knowledge, now is it?¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t,¡± Fourier conceded. ¡°But shouldn¡¯t that just mean I should practise for when it is? Besides, Crusch knows, and I¡¯ve sworn to myself to always do my best for her.¡±

    ¡°Fourier,¡± Ferris said, face tightening. ¡°I care about Lady Crusch¡¯s happiness just as much as you do, but we both know that when you push yourself until you collapse all you¡¯ll be doing is causing her far more unhappiness, especially if it was because of her.¡±

    Ferris held his gaze for a moment, impressing the seriousness of the situation on him, before Fourier looked away.

    ¡°I know,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure that doesn¡¯t happen.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Your Majesty?¡±

    Fourier snapped out of his reminiscing, and focused on Crusch.

    She was giving him an odd look, but her lips formed a slight smile.

    ¡°Just thinking about something,¡± Fourier explained, reaching down to take her gloved hand, and help her step up into the carriage.

    The faint breeze ruffled her hair as she reached the raised platform. She was so close that Fourier could easily make out the scent of her perfume.

    Crusch seemed oblivious to Fourier¡¯s internal distress. She was looking down at the carriage, an odd look on her face.

    ¡°Traditionally,¡± she began, ¡°only the knights and royal family ride in the processional carriage. While I am a supporter, I am not either¡­ at least, not yet.¡±

    She turned her eyes up at Fourier. ¡°This may as well be an official proclamation of our engagement. I thought we were going to wait until after the ceremony to announce it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Fourier said. ¡°Even if some people figure it out, we¡¯ll be announcing it by the end of the day anyway. And it¡¯s very important for you to be here.¡±

    Crusch tilted her head. ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯ve been so busy, and I haven¡¯t had time to see you,¡± Fourier said, faking surprise, as if what he was saying was obvious. ¡°If you¡¯re not here, I might die of loneliness before the ceremony!¡±

    A war played out on Crusch¡¯s face, exasperation fighting with the bemused smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

    But Fourier¡¯s charms proved too much, and though she tried to turn away to hide it, Fourier could see the smile spread wide across her face.

    ¡°I don¡¯t really think you should joke about that,¡± she said, trying to get back at him. ¡°Ferris would be sad if he heard you.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense!¡± Fourier insisted, going on the attack, determined to make the most of this rare instance where he had the advantage. ¡°In fact, it was Ferris himself who diagnosed my condition! The only cure is to spend more time with my closest friends.¡±

    ¡°Nyah? I don¡¯t remember recomme~nding that.¡±

    ¡°Gah, the reinforcements arrived!¡±

    Fourier turned to see the unexpected third party, the cat-eared healer standing tall with his hands on his hips. He was dressed up in the formal uniform of the royal knights, though as ever, he didn¡¯t look all that comfortable in it. It was obvious from the way he picked at the hems, and the way he would occasionally shift his shoulders to adjust the mantle.

    ¡°And what¡¯s with that way of speaking?¡± Fourier continued. He raised the pitch of his voice, and repeated the word.

    ¡°Recomme~nding? It¡¯s like how Roswaal talks.¡±

    He faked a look of horror. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me, is he rubbing off on you? Is he trying to steal you away?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Ferris put his hand on his chin and closed his eyes, seemingly deep in thought. ¡°We~ll, let¡¯s see¡­ Roswaal could teach me a lot about magic, and he pays his knights very well. Perhaps I should go work for him.¡±

    Fourier let out a pained grunt, and bent over holding a hand over his heart, as if he had been struck a fatal blow.

    ¡°No,¡± he gasped out. ¡°I won¡¯t allow it. I¡¯ll issue a royal proclamation! I won¡¯t let him take you from me! Just thinking about how far away you would be, trapped in those cold northern lands, fills me with despair.¡±

    ¡°Ah, it is colder there, isn¡¯t it?¡± Ferris said as if realising it for the first time. As if the traitor hadn¡¯t already gone to visit multiple times. ¡°I don¡¯t like the cold. Well, looks like I won¡¯t be able to go then. It¡¯s unfortunate, but I¡¯ll have to stay here.¡±

    Crusch let out a sigh, and the two paused their banter to look at her.

    She hadn¡¯t gone so far as to hold her face in her hand, but it seemed giving her time to recover had allowed exasperation to begin winning the war for her face.

    ¡°At least try not to act like that when we enter the city,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s bad enough doing out in public, but at least here there are only subordinates around.¡±

    ¡°Not to worry,¡± Fourier said, straightening up. ¡°We¡¯ll behave. Right Ferris?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Ferris agreed. ¡°But if you two start flirting again without including me, I might be unable to control myself.¡±

    ¡°That I can do!¡± Fourier said. ¡°After all, you are the other person who I must spend time with, lest I fall terribly ill.¡±

    ¡°Oh, really?¡± Ferris asked. He nodded sagely. ¡°Now that you mention it, I think I did say something like that. I must have forgotten.¡±

    ¡°You realise I can see the wind of untruth blowing around you both, right?¡± Crusch asked.

    ¡°Untruth?¡± Fourier asked, recoiling and placing a hand on his heart. ¡°I can assure you, I am being entirely truthful when I say I want to spend this time with the two of you.¡±

    ¡°That is not what you¡ª nevermind.¡±

    She rolled her eyes, and turned her head to the front of the carriage.

    Fourier himself gave another look to the servants and guards still scrambling around.

    Most were in place now, and the ground dragons had gone still, in preparation for the coming trek.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± one of the knights called up to him. ¡°The messenger has returned, and we¡¯ve confirmed the new route is ready. We are ready to depart at your command.¡±

    ¡°Very good,¡± Fourier said. ¡°Do so at your convenience. I shall refrain from interfering.¡±

    The knight nodded and turned to head to the front carriage, but before he could go, Fourier called out, ¡°Oh, one last thing.¡±

    The knight turned back to him with a curious look, and Fourier continued. ¡°We¡¯ve been ignoring the tradition for quite a while now, but today I think we should try and honour it. I have not been crowned yet, so ¡®Your Majesty¡¯ is a bit premature as a manner of address.¡±

    The knight nodded. ¡°Ah, I see. It is as you say, Your Highness. I will inform the others.¡±

    As the knight walked away towards the head of the procession, Ferris gave him an odd look.

    ¡°Is that really important?¡± he asked. ¡°Everyone¡¯s been calling you ¡®Your Majesty¡¯ since¡­ well since you were cured. Even the commoners from the city have started doing it.¡±

    Fourier shook his head. ¡°I would suppose not. In the end, the manner of addressing the royal family is a matter of tradition, and sacrificing it for the sake of peace of mind was a worthy trade.¡±

    He let his eyes wander, sweeping over the city that sprawled underneath the palace hill.

    ¡°And yet¡­¡± he continued, a bit quieter, but still loud enough for both of his companions to hear him, ¡°I think it¡¯s important to try and keep it. It¡¯s only a little tradition, but if there ever comes another time where the royal family is reduced to its last legs, I think they would appreciate having it around to sacrifice again.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think traditions are supposed to be for sacrificing in tough situations,¡± Crusch commented dryly. ¡°This one is for ensuring proper respect is felt for the royal family, and that the monarch is inherently more respected than the rest of the family. What the people address you as doesn¡¯t matter until the royal family recovers.¡±

    A call went up from the front carriage, and the procession slowly began to roll forward.

    Fourier felt a slight breeze on his skin as the carriage began to move, which then cut out as the ground dragons¡¯ Divine Protections kicked in.

    They made a fine sight once they were in motion.

    On all sides, they were surrounded by the best of the kingdom¡¯s warriors. The knights marched in their pure white uniforms, the guards¡¯ and soldiers¡¯ armour was polished so much it shone.

    Almost all the knights were present for the procession, excluding only those who were currently patrolling the city.

    In all, seven carriages rolled forward over the paved streets. None of the others were as grand as Fourier¡¯s but they were still decorated enough that they didn¡¯t look out of place next to it.

    Those carriages held various of the kingdom¡¯s higher-ups, famous faces from across the branches of administration, the knights, the military, and a few of Fourier¡¯s staunchest supporters from the nobility.

    Roswaal wasn¡¯t among them, which Fourier found a bit unfortunate. Despite his reclusiveness, the man was popular in his domain, and he was sure many of the coming crowds would love to catch a glimpse of him.

    He was pretty sure the court mage would be waiting at their destination, wearing that magic cloak he valued so highly. Fourier couldn¡¯t really ask for more than that.

    They soon reached the noble district, and continued onwards, trundling down the main road into the city proper.

    A great cheer went up from the sides of the street as the procession approached. A large portion of the crowds were gathered on this section of the route, and Fourier could see the city guards struggling to keep them under control.

    He felt bad for them, but it was their job. He had one of his own he needed to see to.

    He took Crusch and Ferris¡¯s hands, and lifted them high into the air.

    It was important to appear happy for a day as important as this one, days where the citizens got to look upon him. His mood would be used to predict the coming days of the kingdom, so it wouldn¡¯t be good if he looked upset.

    But he didn¡¯t think that was going to be a problem for the day. The smile on his face was entirely genuine.

    <hr>

    It took almost a full hour for them to complete the route that had been planned out. Fourier could see the knights fussing by the crowds, making sure that nothing went contrary to the plan.

    They must have done their job exceptionally well, as not a single thing went wrong.

    The procession started to break apart as they reached their destination, the other carriages peeling off to let their passengers off, with Fourier¡¯s continuing straight ahead.

    A crowd had already gathered, but it continued to grow over time, as citizens kept trickling in to witness the coronation.

    Fourier cast his gaze around, examining every corner of the site that had been chosen for his coronation.

    It was not the first time he had seen it. They had gone through many possible locations, and Fourier had inspected every single one of them, before deciding on the field where the Fire had burned hottest.

    He had thought this location would be best at the time, and was glad he¡¯d made the decision, in part for its size. As the crowd had grown enough, even the massive fields were covered with people as far as the eye could see.

    ¡°It¡¯s strange, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Fourier turned at Crusch¡¯s words, seeing her looking out over the surroundings in much the same way he had been.

    ¡°All this devastation, all the death that took place here¡­ looking at it now, you¡¯d scarcely believe what happened here.¡±

    Fourier inclined his head. ¡°I suppose. But in some ways, I think making it like this will ensure it¡¯s not forgotten.¡±

    Crusch nodded, her eyes going to the centre of the field, where a great spire of stone had been erected.

    ¡°I suppose so,¡± she murmured, as the carriage continued onward, over pavement that had so recently been blackened by scorching heat.

    Much of it had needed to be replaced during the renewal project, but they had left enough of the original stone that there could be no doubts as to what had happened to the region.

    This was the origin point where the great fire had started. Much of the surrounding areas had been saved due to quick thinking on the part of Crusch and her forces, but this central area had been burned to ashes long before the first firefighters had arrived.

    Rather than try and rebuild the dwellings, they had decided to turn the area into something of a park, dedicated to all the troubles their kingdom had gone through, and of their triumph over them.

    Now grass grew where buildings had stood, and stone tablets had been erected listing the names of those who had perished in both the fire and the insect attacks.

    And at the very centre was the spire, a symbol of resolute strength and quiet mourning.

    It was a tall column of magically reinforced stone, capped with a statue of the Divine Dragon.

    It was a monument dedicated to honouring Volcanica, and a gravestone to mark his passing.

    A true grave was being built at the site of his demise, but Fourier knew that many among the populace would want a place to mourn him in the capital.

    At the base of the spire, a raised plinth had been raised, tall enough that those who stood on it could be seen from across the entire field.

    Fourier¡¯s eyes landed on the people already standing there, focusing on the one right up front.

    Miklotov stood waiting for them, his hands clasped behind his back. Fourier had been worried that the elderly councilmember wouldn¡¯t have the energy for the ceremony, but seeing him standing tall with a smile on his face, Fourier knew he would be fine.

    The carriage stopped at the base of the plinth, and the knights started taking up positions at the base.

    Fourier moved to the edge to step down, but Ferris was faster. In a flash, he had descended to the ground, and offered a hand to help Fourier down.

    He stood tall and gallant, a picture-perfect knight helping his liege. In fact, the only flaw in his otherwise perfect facade was the slight twinge of a mischievous smile on his face.

    ¡°What are you up to?¡± Fourier asked with a slight narrowing of his eyes.

    ¡°Hmm? I¡¯m nyot up to anything,¡± Ferris replied, his tone entirely too innocent. ¡°I¡¯m just helping Your Highness off the carriage.¡±

    Fourier didn¡¯t believe him for a moment.

    But then, whatever trick he was trying to play, it wouldn¡¯t be that bad. Not when in front of the public like they were.

    So he took the knight¡¯s proffered hand, and stepped down from the carriage.

    But no trick came. Ferris helped him down without issue, and Fourier started to wonder if Ferris really had only been trying to help.

    Once his feet were on the ground, Ferris turned back to the carriage and lifted his hand again, and helped Crusch descend as well¡ª

    ¡°No! That was the trick!¡± Fourier cried out, barely resisting the urge to fall to his knees. ¡°I wanted to help her down!¡±

    ¡°Trick?¡± Ferris asked, his voice sickly sweet with false innocence. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I am simply performing my duties as a knight.¡±

    ¡°Both of you, stop it,¡± Crusch said, a slight frown on her brow. ¡°Or I¡¯ll ask one of the other knights to help in future.¡±

    She held her gaze on them for a moment to make sure they were behaving, then started walking to the plinth.

    Once she had turned her back on them, Fourier looked back at Ferris, and at his smug, self-satisfied grin.

    He couldn¡¯t help the smile that rose up on his own face.

    ¡°You win this time,¡± he grumbled softly, but he couldn¡¯t entirely subdue the levity in his tone. ¡°But let¡¯s behave for the rest of the day. I don¡¯t want to get in trouble.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m already in trouble,¡± Ferris whispered back. ¡°But I¡¯ll accept. I think she¡¯ll forget in a week or two. Maybe. Hopefully.¡±

    His face was growing more doubtful by the second, so Fourier didn¡¯t think he would be escaping.

    He let out a quiet laugh, and started walking after Crusch.

    As he ascended the steps to the plinth, the officials and council members who were present bowed to him.

    Fourier motioned for them to rise, and stepped closer to Miklotov.

    ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t straining yourself, are you?¡±

    ¡°No. I have been watching my health very carefully,¡± the elderly man responded. ¡°I would not miss this moment for the world. It¡¯s been far too long since we¡¯ve had a Lion King on the throne.¡±

    Fourier sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m worthy of that title. I wish I was, but¡­¡±

    He shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Without the help of everyone around me, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to do anything.¡±

    Miklotov tilted his head, an odd expression on his face.

    ¡°I did not mean¡ª no perhaps I should not bring it up here.¡±

    Fourier looked at him in confusion, but the old man merely smiled at him.

    ¡°To roughly restate what you mean¡­ Your Highness, what do you suppose makes a good king?¡±

    Fourier looked at him. ¡°A good king? I¡ª I don¡¯t know. Someone wise, able to make the right decisions for the sake of the kingdom. Someone brave, able to run into danger for the sake of the people. Someone who can lead proudly.¡±

    ¡°Wisdom, bravery, and leadership,¡± Miklotov repeated. ¡°It sounds to me like you¡¯ve already become a good king. You are worthy of the crown, perhaps more so than many of your forebears.¡±

    Fourier blinked. ¡°What? No, I haven¡¯t. Without your help, I would never have been able to handle the administration of the capital, let alone the entire kingdom. And¡­ well, I suppose you could call some of my actions ¡®brave¡¯, but it feels like ¡®reckless¡¯ might be a better word.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Miklotov allowed. ¡°But is it not wise to admit one¡¯s own shortcomings, and seek the skills of others to supplement them? And bravery and recklessness are often two sides of the same coin.¡±

    He chuckled.

    ¡°You seem to underestimate yourself. You have been forced into a position few of your predecessors have faced, and you have risen admirably to the occasion. You have won the loyalty of the people, of your friends and even some of your foes as well. Your subordinates act with your will to help build the kingdom into what you want it to be.¡±

    He turned away, towards the fields and the people streaming in from the surrounding city.

    ¡°Frankly speaking, Your Highness, if you are not worthy of being known as a good king, then I¡¯m not sure anyone is.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I think you¡¯re overestimating me,¡± Fourier said.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure many of the previous kings felt the same way. I can just imagine it now.¡±

    The council member smiled and shook his head.

    ¡°Ah, but I probably shouldn¡¯t imagine the great Farsale as an eight-year-old boy. That might be rude of me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not eight anymore,¡± Fourier protested. ¡°You¡¯re missing a digit.¡±

    ¡°Forgive me. I have such difficulty telling you young ones apart in my old age.¡±

    Fourier held his gaze for a moment, but he couldn¡¯t hold back the smile rising on his lips.

    ¡°I never thought you would be one to joke around,¡± he said, turning to watch the crowd gather. ¡°You were always¡­ not ¡®stern¡¯, but you were always quite serious.¡±

    ¡°It was important not to spoil you like a doting grandparent,¡± Miklotov said. ¡°The Dragon knows your father did that enough. But now you are to be king. I can afford a little light-heartedness, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±

    Fourier let out a small chuckle.

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right.¡±

    They watched the people gather for a while longer, then Miklotov cleared his throat and turned back to the officials behind them.

    ¡°I believe we will be beginning soon,¡± he said.

    Fourier nodded.

    He watched the people for a moment longer, seeing the way their eyes found him and stayed there. Their faces were joyous, and their cheers were filled with their hope for the future.

    It would be difficult to live up to their expectations, both those of the people, and those of Miklotov. But he¡¯d try.

    <hr>

    The ceremony was a long and overly pompous affair.

    Much of the time was spent on the nobility of the kingdom. Many were important enough to pledge their allegiance to the new monarch as part of the ceremony, and many more had shown up to do so, throwing their support behind the throne.

    Every one of them knelt before Fourier as they made their pledges, and for each one, Fourier had to say the ceremonial response.

    It was time consuming, and Fourier could feel his throat starting to ache, but their declarations were welcome.

    Traditionally, the priests of the Church of the Divine Dragon would have sung hymns as part of the ceremony. They had decided to forgo that particular aspect for the day, but they had decided on an alternative.

    As the final nobles made their declarations, a full orchestra of musicians started playing their instruments, several among their number using wind magic to ensure they could be heard all the way across the field.

    They played the tune of one of the more traditional of the royal songs, one that apparently predated the contract with the dragon.

    Fourier had a brief moment to relax as the music played, and soon Ferris had appeared by his side, fussing over him and trying to surreptitiously soothe his throat.

    But even though most of the public¡¯s attention was directed to the orchestra at that moment, there was no way that no one was looking at him. Fourier waved Ferris off, preventing him from conjuring a healing orb.

    If someone spotted one, they¡¯d likely grow anxious, wondering why Fourier would need to be healed in the middle of his coronation, and perhaps spread that anxiety to the others around them.

    ¡°Later,¡± he promised in a quiet voice, and Ferris reluctantly backed away.

    Once the orchestra had finished the first hymn, they continued to play, but at a much lower volume, allowing attention to go back to Fourier.

    Miklotov stepped forward, an attendant at his side carrying the royal crown.

    ¡°It is a great honour to stand here today,¡± the elderly council member began. He hadn¡¯t raised his voice at all, but everyone gathered could still hear him, as wind magic carried his words across the field.

    ¡°I have served this kingdom under both your father and grandfather, and in that time I have seen the great resiliency of the Lugunican people, our determination in the face of adversity, and our ability to overcome adversity.

    ¡°There exists no better proof of that resiliency than the events of the last year, and of this coronation. Together, we have driven off the enemies that sought to throw us into chaos, and together, we have rebuilt stronger than before.¡±

    He turned to his attendant, and Fourier knelt down.

    Miklotov took the crown, and held it high.

    ¡°This is the Crown of Lugunica. For generations, the kings of our nation have worn it and guided the country. Now it passes to you.¡±

    Miklotov¡¯s hands didn¡¯t tremble in the slightest as he held the crown aloft, but to Fourier¡¯s eyes, the crown looked so incredibly heavy in that moment.

    ¡°Fourier Lugunica,¡± Miklotov continued. ¡°In place of your father, who fell to sickness, I ask this question of you. Do you swear to lead the kingdom of Lugunica through peace and strife, in times good and bad, to the best of your ability?¡±

    ¡°I swear it,¡± Fourier answered.

    ¡°Then may your rule be long and prosperous,¡± Miklotov said, and placed the crown down on Fourier¡¯s head.

    It was unexpectedly comfortable. Fourier didn¡¯t know why that fact surprised him, many previous kings of the country had worn it for many hours at a time during important ceremonies.

    But as he stood up, he realised his initial judgement might have been superficial.

    The crown was not as heavy as he feared, but there was still some weight to it. And as he moved his head, he felt it shift, as if it were waiting for one wrong movement to topple off his head.

    Was there a lesson there? Something his predecessors were trying to teach him?

    Something to think about later.

    ¡°My people,¡± Fourier began, turning his attention to the crowd of faces.

    ¡°We have all undergone great hardship to reach this place. One year ago, I was the fourth prince, and the likelihood of me taking the throne was so low as to be nothing. One year ago, the worst of our problems was our faltering economy. Since that time, the majority of my family perished, leaving me as the only survivor, and shadowy enemies struck out at us.¡±

    He paused, letting his words sink in.

    ¡°But we have overcome those tragedies!¡± he cried out, spreading his arms wide. ¡°By working together, we have been able to defeat the enemies that had been arrayed against us. The insect swarms were dispersed, and the fire was stopped.¡±

    He lowered his hands, and his voice took on a more sombre tone.

    ¡°Many of us lost their lives in this battle. Countless people were trapped in this very field when the fire was set. Many more were attacked by insect swarms. Their deaths are tragedies we will not soon forget.¡±

    He raised his voice again, looking into the crowd, and making eye contact with as many people as possible.

    ¡°I swear, I will not allow a tragedy such as this to happen again. As long as I rule, I will fight for our nation and our people!¡±

    There was a moment of silence, one that seemed to drag on and on, and just when Fourier had decided he had better say a few more words, one of the people in the crowd raised their hand.

    ¡°Long live the king!¡±

    The single, solitary voice called out without the benefit of wind magic to carry it across the field, but Fourier could still hear it.

    And several others had heard it as well. This time, many others had joined in with the call, beginning to chant it together.

    ¡°Long live the king!¡±

    Then it spread further, until everyone Fourier could see was chanting it.

    ¡°Long live the king! Long live the king! Long live the king!¡±

    Fourier spread his hands wide, basking in the adoration the crowd showed him.

    This is why we do it.

    It had been a long time since he had heard the voice that had spoken those words, and longer since he had last heard them. But Fourier could still remember it like it was yesterday.

    His father had gathered the princes one day after a royal proclamation, and had them look upon the cheering citizenry.

    This is why we work so hard to keep balance between the factions, why we try and listen intently to the voices of the people, why we stress about the problems our kingdom faces. So that when we look upon the faces of our people, we know we have done what is right.

    His father had not been a very good statesman. He was adequate, but adequate wasn¡¯t enough when faced with the kind of economic problems Luguica was facing.

    And yet, Fourier felt that his father had done better than he ever would have if he had been competent but ruthless. As he listened to the crowd cheer, he made another, silent oath in his heart.

    I will always remember my father¡¯s words, and endeavour to rule with the same kindness he did.

    Then, as the field began to quiet down, it was finally time. Fourier¡¯s heart started racing, and it felt like his throat was closing up.

    Don¡¯t lose your nerve now. Just go through the motions.

    ¡°While this is unusual for this ceremony, there is one last announcement I have to make.¡±

    He could hear footsteps behind him, but he didn¡¯t turn. He already knew who it was from the sound of the gait.

    ¡°Traditionally, it would be my father making this announcement. As he is no longer with us, I will reveal it in his place.¡±

    He swallowed, and the footsteps stopped beside him.

    He felt another hand brush his, and he clasped it, sparing a brief glance to his side.

    Crusch smiled back at him, outwardly calm, but he had known her a long time. He could see the slight traces of nervousness on her face.

    ¡°I am both proud and happy to announce that as of this moment, I am engaged to Duchess Crusch Karsten!¡± he said, his voice booming over the field.

    He lifted their hands high into the air, as the crowd broke out in cheers once more.

    There were no words this time, but somehow, Fourier felt that there was more meaning to it. Rather than the reaffirmation of tradition, this was a simple gesture of happiness and well-wishes.

 Epilogue

    Flakes of snow fell all around him, drifting gently to the ground in the still evening air.

    Winter had only just begun, but the snow had already begun to pile up in the gaps between the trees. This far north, when the cold came, it came quickly.

    He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself with one hand as a harsh wind suddenly ran across the clearing, his bones feeling almost brittle as even the heat his enchanted cloak produced couldn¡¯t keep up with the chill.

    The problem wasn¡¯t the cloak, he knew. It was still working exactly as he had designed it. It was his own body that was failing, his own internal body heat growing weaker in his extreme old age.

    He even had to use a cane these days in order to move around any significant distance.

    Ferris was always telling him to take better care of himself, but alas, he couldn¡¯t afford to listen to all of his apprentice''s advice.

    It made him a bit morbid at times, to see how one of the closest friends from this life outgrow his youth and step into old age. Roswaal felt a bit guilty to think it, but he was glad he¡¯d be departing first. He and his mission would endure, but his mind would be coloured by his new vessel.

    Roswaal felt a smile rise on his lips as he recalled the day he had introduced his son to Ferris.

    He had been shocked, both that Roswaal had a son in the first place, and that he had managed to conceive one at sixty years of age.

    Roswaal L. Mathers, his son and the current acting Margrave, had grown into an uptight and serious individual. He had a work ethic that could put Rem to shame, and intelligent enough to spar words with Ram as an equal. Those were traits that would serve him well as the next head of the Mathers family.

    It was selfish, but Roswaal knew that the two maids would help take care of him, and that combined with his closest friend¡¯s help, that he would live a fulfilling life.

    He paused, his footsteps slowing, then he shook his head with a smile.

    Serve me well, I should say. Old age is making me senile.

    Perhaps it was inevitable that he would begin to think sentimentally on such matters, after all, soon it would be up to the next generation. He had been growing tired more easily, and much of his days were spent resting.

    But even so, he had no intention of actually doing such a thing. He had already prepared the ritual to move his soul, and his death would trigger it.

    But some part of him¡ªthe part that was mostly Karl¡ªwould be left behind as he merged with his son. Perhaps it was that part thinking such things.

    Despite the fading daylight, Roswaal¡¯s each step was sure, long experience allowing him to easily prowl through the darkened clearing.

    He was by himself, an occurrence that had been happening more regularly as of late. It wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d needed to distance himself from people and yet¡­

    He pulled a slim, nondescript book out of his robes, his eyes tracing the design on the cover, all in black and dark grey. The weight and appearance was a perfect match to the book his teacher had created all those centuries ago, he¡¯d even spent considerable time matching its smell. It should have been flawless.

    His mind couldn¡¯t tell any differences, even his magical senses honed to perfection detected nothing. But the real Tome of Wisdom felt heavy, as if he was carrying the weight of the world every time he gazed upon it.

    It hadn¡¯t even been more than a few hours since he¡¯d stashed the real copy away, and yet he felt uprooted, as if a pillar in his life had disappeared and left him behind to crumble.

    His caution was likely unnecessary, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Better for any curious individuals who had learned of his habit of checking a book to have their questions answered by a personal journal, rather than his real tome.

    Pressing the fake book against his heart, he continued his stroll, knowing just how important these moments were, with what was to soon come.

    He¡¯d known the day was coming for years, and after a lifetime working to support the kingdom, he now had one final role to play.

    A small smile crept onto his face, far smaller than his customary grin as he thought of the future his student would help create.

    Teacher, is this how you felt when I¡­

    He stumbled, his foot shifting as he placed it down on a patch of loose snow. He managed to catch himself with his cane, but it was a close call.

    Even with all my experience, I still can¡¯t get used to being old. Not that I really have much practice.

    It was rare that his bodies would live all the way into the depths of old age. On average, he spent just under forty years in one body before moving onto the next.

    Julia had died early, which meant that Roswaal had spent almost seventy years as Karl.

    Now he was older than he had ever been before, a wrinkled seventy-eight year old man. Or was it seventy-nine? He rarely kept track of things like that these days.

    All of a sudden, he felt eyes on his back. He was no longer alone in the forest.

    He kept walking. This wasn¡¯t the first time he had sensed the presence of his guest. While he couldn¡¯t be sure, he suspected he had reacted slightly the first time he had sensed her on his evening walks, enough so that she hadn¡¯t wanted to take any actions without further observation.

    Would this be the day when she finally acted? Roswaal wasn¡¯t sure. She was a frightfully cautious individual.

    The tome never strayed from the style it had been written in, always revealing the future as a set of instructions without explanation. Few of those instructions related to her, but Roswaal had spent centuries pouring over every word of them, and he had inferred the basics of her personality from them.

    Her actions all those years ago against the royal family were proof enough of her cowardice.

    She had manipulated a curse to wipe them out, and when that had failed, she had relied on minions to try and finish the job.

    If she had acted herself, perhaps she would have succeeded. But she hadn¡¯t lived this long by being reckless. Thwarting her plans the first time almost guaranteed that she would back off.

    The gaze felt more intense this time. Like a lion, tired of stalking its prey, and deciding to come into the light.

    He heard the soft thump of feet hitting snow behind him, and then came the voice.

    ¡°Well, well, meatbag!¡±

    He froze as if caught off guard, then slowly turned to look at the speaker.

    The sun had set, and the sky was growing dark, so he could only make out the vaguest details about her, her silhouette, the outlines of her clothing, and the vicious smile on her face. She was short, but the large feathered wings stretching up from her back made her appear almost as tall as him, and a black draconic tail waved behind her.

    The sight before him should have made him wary, but all he felt was satisfaction. The time had finally come.

    ¡°Oh? That¡¯s a new one,¡± the woman said, tilting her head. ¡°Usually people have more interesting reactions when I do that. Can¡¯t you offer something more than that blank look? At the very least, you should be enamoured by my loveliness.¡±

    ¡°My apologies, but I¡¯m too old to be acting surprised at every little thing that comes up,¡± Roswaal said, trying to add a touch of fake nerves to his voice. He wanted to give the impression that he hadn¡¯t been expecting her, so he had to show some emotion.

    With a flick of his fingers, two fireballs burst into existence beside him, illuminating their surroundings, the trees around them casting dancing shadows.

    But as soon as the light illuminated his adversary, he felt his pulse increase, as he tightened his fists.

    Now he could clearly see the golden lustre of her hair, and her malevolent eyes, as scarlet as blood.

    Those features¡­ That¡¯s the same as¡­ Why is she¡­?

    ¡°Oh?¡± the woman asked, beginning to preen in the light. ¡°I suppose it can¡¯t be helped if you couldn¡¯t see me. Humans are creatures that need to see to understand what¡¯s loveable, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he whispered.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± the woman paused for a moment, then smiled. ¡°Ah, yes, I should introduce myself, so you have a name for the new love of your life. I am a Sin Archbishop of the Witch¡¯s Cult, representing Lust. Capella Emerada Lugunica.¡±

    ¡®Lugunica¡¯? She claims to be part of the royal family?

    Roswaal wasn¡¯t sure what to think. His opponent was a Sin Archbishop, so it wasn¡¯t out of the question that she was lying, but¡­ but what if she wasn¡¯t?

    His mind whirled, tracing back the lineage of Lugunica¡¯s royalty. He had been the kingdom¡¯s Court Mage for many generations, so it wasn¡¯t difficult to match the name she had given with one from his memories.

    Emerada? That girl?

    He focused his attention back on her face, comparing it to what he remembered from his previous incarnations, and recognition dawned on him.

    She was the spitting image of Emerada Lugunica, the vain, cruel and pitiful princess that the kingdom would prefer to pretend had never existed.

    For a moment, he was truly caught off-guard. From his time spent reading his tome, he had gleaned that his encounter with her would be shocking, but he wasn¡¯t quite prepared for a surprise like this.

    Is it really her? And even assuming she''s a fake, why would she pretend to be Emerada of all people?

    He¡¯d known Emerada briefly, in another life. While he¡¯d barely interacted with her, and much of what he knew came solely from rumours, it did paint a picture.

    He had once scolded her for starting a fight with her sisters, had taught her the basics in magic for the few times she had been present for the lessons he gave the royal children, along with a smattering of other minor interactions.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    If Roswaal had personally gotten to know her better, perhaps he would be able to tell whether the person standing before him was a pretender, or if she had somehow figured out a way to cheat death.

    Shifting his stance slightly, he felt the weight of his tome silently reassure him. If he had been meant to know for certain, then it would have told him to interact more with Emerada when he¡¯d had the opportunity. Therefore, her true identity was unimportant.

    Even so, he couldn¡¯t stop the curiosity blooming inside him. It had been almost a hundred years since her death, and any who had known her in life had since passed on, but there were still avenues of research that could be taken. Perhaps in his next life, he would be able to find out more from the historic documents. There wasn¡¯t too much planned for L¡¯s life anyway. It would make for a good distraction.

    Still, it would be helpful if he learned as much as possible while he had the opportunity.

    ¡°Lugunica?¡± he asked, tilting his head. ¡°That¡¯s quite a bold claim. I can¡¯t say I can believe it, even with your appearance. After all, King Fourier has no children that look like you.¡±

    The girl in front of him froze, her mouth twisting into a slight snarl, and her voice taking on a trace of anger.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bring them up, meatbag. I¡¯ve already given you the privilege of addressing me by my name,. If you want more, then you¡¯ll have to earn it.¡±

    From her expression, Roswaal surmised that she wasn¡¯t going to speak further on the subject. Pressing the issue would likely just make her retaliate.

    ¡°Well then¡­ Capella, was it? For what reason have you sought out an old man on his evening walk?¡±

    Capella sneered. ¡°Are you going senile? You are frightfully old, so I suppose it¡¯s not out of the question. I¡¯m here to ensure the natural order of things, to make sure your love is directed to the right person.¡±

    Then she shook her head. ¡°But one would think that my position as a Sin Archbishop of the Witch¡¯s Cult would be reason enough to cause mischief, no? Ah, how lonely it must be to have begun to lose your train of thought. I¡¯m sure no one else understands.¡±

    ¡°But don¡¯t worry!¡± she exclaimed, spreading her arms wide. ¡°Now that I¡¯m here, you can expend all your love on me! You don¡¯t have to worry about anything else, because as the Archbishop of Lust, there was never anything you could have done.¡±

    Roswaal smirked, forcing his face to show amusement. Against an opponent like this, if he wanted to accomplish his goals, then he needed her angry in order to satisfy her with just his death. Anything that could keep her anger off the kingdom for even a little longer would be useful.

    ¡°That¡¯s quite the declaration. However, I can¡¯t say I¡¯m impressed,¡± he said, lifting his hands and shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯ve killed a Sin Archbishop before. For him to lose to an old man such as myself, it makes one wonder whether the rumours of the Sin Archbishops are overstated.¡±

    He closed one eye, allowing yellow to stare her down. ¡°Will you be joining him, I wonder?¡±

    Capella had shown signs of frustration before, but that was nothing compared to the rage that rose on her face at his words.

    ¡°How dare you.¡± she whispered, eyes draining of colour. ¡°First your kingdom killed some of my children, then your half baked student stole another away, and then worst of all, you killed that weakling! Do you realise that his meatbag brother decided to blame me!¡±

    Flesh twisted as she screamed, her face shifting into a snarling dragon, the only thing remaining unchanged was the unabated hatred in her eyes focusing solely on Roswaal.

    ¡°He took so many of my children, and it¡¯s all because of you!¡±

    For a moment it appeared as if all control would fail her, as her tail and wings twitched and writhed as if she were going to leap out and tear him apart. Roswaal¡¯s hand tightened on his cane, ready to activate the magical defences it contained at a moment¡¯s notice.

    But then she closed her eyes, and the dragon vanished as quickly as it had appeared, flesh changing once more into human.

    ¡°But! I am the lovely and lovable Capella. I can find it myself to forgive you, if you give your love to me!¡±

    Again with the ¡®love¡¯. She had said the same thing several times already. Roswaal had initially thought it was simply a peculiarity of this Sin Archbishop, but the more she talked, the more he examined how she behaved, the more he began to think that she was being entirely genuine.

    Unable to stop himself, Roswaal laughed. The thought of a Sin Archbishop desiring love from him was so ridiculous that he just couldn¡¯t help it.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid you''re much too late for such a thing,¡± he said, a trace of wistfulness entering his tone. ¡°I swore a long time ago that my heart would be dedicated only to one, and that promise is something far more important than my life.¡±

    Capella scoffed. ¡°Really? I never expected such naivety from you. Do you think that it¡¯s possible to control your heart?¡±

    She clasped both hands in front of her and her voice took on a sing-song, mocking tone.

    ¡°¡®There¡¯s only one person I love, there¡¯s only one person for me, there¡¯s no way I could love someone else. After all, the reason I love her is because she saved me, without her I¡¯m nothing. Before I met her, my life was colourless, but after I met her, the world changed!¡¯¡±

    She snarled and threw her hands out.

    ¡°It¡¯s all lies! Pretty platitudes to hide the truth!¡±

    Her form twisted, and began to change rapidly. Her golden hair turned blue, then red, then green, her eyes brown, then grey, then amber, her body growing and shrinking freely. One moment she was a slender young woman, the next a burly man, then a child.

    Not one detail about her appearance remained the same between one moment and the next as she shifted though a thousand forms.

    ¡°All people are the same, just bags of meat who go after other meatsacks that suit their tastes. Since I¡¯m the infinitely lovable Capella, I can be anything to anyone. I¡¯ll work hard to raise my charm, and make sure all others have no charm at all, all to ensure that everyone¡¯s love is directed to where it belongs!¡±

    Shaking his head slowly, Roswaal''s smile deepened as he locked eyes with the shifting figure.

    ¡°That is certainly a lofty goal. I can¡¯t deny that if you were successful, you would be the most envied person in this world. But to claim that you can completely control all love? I¡¯d thought Gluttony was arrogant in his attempt to consume and subjugate memories, but if this is the sort of goal Sin Archbishops set for themselves, perhaps I was wrong.¡±

    Capella tilted her head, then her ever-shifting form stilled, and she shrunk back into her previous form, golden-haired with scarlet eyes.

    ¡°Perhaps I should just show you, then. I already have a good idea of what kind of meatbags you like.¡±

    Then she transformed into the most horrific form possible.

    Roswaal felt his eyes widen in shock, his breath picked up and for a moment he froze completely.

    She was standing in front of him.

    It was an utter mockery of her. There was no kindness in the quirk of her smile, no great wisdom in her eyes. But it looked so much like her, the person he had longed to see for over four hundred years.

    A smile rose on the woman¡¯s face, and she darted forward, her white hair streaming behind her, her black eyes fixed on his, arms widening as if to embrace him, and he instantly knew that if he didn¡¯t move that very instant, it¡¯d be the last thing he ever saw.

    Mana surged, straining his gate as he tapped into his Od for the first time in this lifetime.

    His every sense screamed at him to erase the perversion in front of him. His very lifeforce drained away to fuel his magic. In that moment of frozen power he could have erased this field dozens of times over.

    Yet it wasn¡¯t his Od that betrayed him in the end. It was the memories he¡¯d long since internalised as his own, the knowledge that if he didn¡¯t burn this sight into him then Karl would never get the chance to see her as himself.

    His hesitation lasted less than a second, but it was a moment too long. As her arms embraced him, the power he¡¯d summoned withered as his own gate turned against him.

    His bones twisted and his nerves screamed as his form twisted, the pain blossomed in his mind as the shape he''d worn for decades was stripped from him, his cane falling out of grasp as his hands seemed to melt away.

    What hurt most of all was the feeling of his gate shifting with him, while never the strongest his gate was his, something only Karl possessed, and now it had gone beyond his reach, stolen along with his metia by this horrific transformation.

    Blinking, all he saw was the dirt before him, but even as he pushed against the dirt all he managed was to rise a few inches before he crashed back down.

    ¡°There, down on the dirt where you belong,¡± her voice said, and the flash of rage had him in the air buzzing angrily, before the realisation struck.

    That wasn¡¯t a sound a human could make.

    He felt like he had many more limbs than he was used to, and he had a strange sensation on his back, like he had an extra set of shoulders.

    He couldn¡¯t turn his head to look at himself, but he could roughly feel what shape he was.

    Had he been turned into some kind of giant insect? A beetle, or perhaps a fly?

    He felt raw, as if the control he¡¯d so carefully crafted had been stripped away. Could he even assume his mind was his own, or that he¡¯d retain all of these memories when he reincarnated?

    ¡°Disgusting aren¡¯t you? After all, your outer form matches that of your inner self now. You may now thank my magnificent self. Ah, but I did make sure you could still see me normally. After all, you should still have the blessing of falling in love with my merciful self. And I¡¯ve left enough of your voice box that you can still beg me for mercy.¡±

    Every word she spoke with her voice caused his anger to burn even hotter, but he forced the anger down before he spoke.

    ¡°You said that all love belongs to you, then why is it that even after being affected by your authority, my heart remains my own?¡±

    Watching her frown repelled and attracted him, and he realised that while part of him wanted to close his new eyes, and hide from her as much as possible, the other half was desperately carving every expression the form he saw into his heart.

    ¡°How boring. You''re supposed to be buzzing angrily and helplessly right now, not calmly sitting still,¡± she said, swinging her arm at him. An arm that shifted and transformed into a set of dragon talons.

    Foreign instincts rose telling him just how to avoid the blow, but he ignored them and did his best to simply hover in place, and while she didn¡¯t stop her blow, the claws vanished, leaving only a dragon¡¯s paw to slam into him instead.

    The force was enough to instantly launch him forward, frantic wing flaps allowing him to control his flight path, even as the pain rampaging through his body told him it was unlikely he would survive another such strike.

    ¡°To think that you would, blunt your strike for me, Capella. I¡¯m flattered.¡±

    Brow furrowing, Capella¡¯s black eyes narrowed as disgust filled them, the expression twisting his teacher¡¯s face into one filled with hate.

    ¡°Giving up already? How disappointing, I¡¯d always known that weakling barely qualified as a Sin Archbishop, but to think someone as pathetic as you killed him makes me even more ashamed that I was connected to him. Although I suppose that trick you pulled with your mana might have been impressive¡­ if you¡¯d had the spine to actually use it.¡±

    She held her gaze on him, her flesh writhing as the dragon¡¯s paw melted back into the form of a human hand.

    ¡°I wonder if you think refusing to run away will allow you to die easier¡­ Well, I promise that you¡¯ll regret even attempting to spoil the fun of the great Capella.¡±

    Eyes blazing with anger, her hand should have been rough, but instead she grabbed one of his forelegs gently, caressing it with a smile that caused his stomach to twist.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see, let¡¯s see. How should I begin?¡±

    Her hands gently ran down his twisted form, but he couldn¡¯t quite disguise the shiver of horror and self hatred he felt as his muscles tensed, and his wings emitted a low buzz.

    What a pathetic end. Hopefully, this will be enough to calm some of her anger.

    Still seemingly not focusing too much on him, Capella squeezed his forelimb one final time, smiling even as it started to dissolve.

    Pain shot through him, beyond anything he had ever experienced in his entire life as Karl. But this wasn¡¯t the first time he''d seen his flesh dissolve before his eyes, nor did he expect it to be the last.

    Watching Capella¡¯s smile tighten as her eyes bore into him, he tried to feel satisfaction but even that felt hollow, even as the sensation magnified as his entire body started to dissolve.

    Part of him wanted to fake screaming, would it bring an honest smile to her face if he did? But even the thought made him try to turn his head away from her.

    ¡°How pathetic, are you so desperate to stay near this form, that you won¡¯t try to escape even when you''re being melted alive?¡± Capella asked, black eyes dancing with twisted amusement.

    ¡°I am not so foolish as to expect that running would help me stay alive,¡± he shot back, feeling his own anger and disgust fade away.

    Yet he still took satisfaction as he watched the amusement slowly drain out of her, as the minutes passed by.

    Already she¡¯d needed to reform the body she¡¯d created several times, and despite his lack of care for the pain he felt, Roswaal could still feel how much strain the transformations were on his body. At this rate he suspected that she¡¯d only be able to reform him two or three more times if she pushed. Beyond that, his body would simply fall apart.

    In a way part of him wanted to thank her. Even if it was a lie, dying in his teacher¡¯s arms was one of his dearest wishes. One day, maybe he¡¯d experience it for real. But that Roswaal wouldn¡¯t be Karl. If he remembered this moment in his next lives, he¡¯d undoubtably feel disgusted and horrified by her form.

    But for now, he simply relaxed, and let himself dream of a time long past.