Unnamed Memory - Volume 2 - Chapter 11

11. Green Vines

The wide underground cave was stuffy and damp.

Revered as sacred ground, the hollow had long been kept a secret. A young man clad in blue gazed at murals that illustrated major moments in history. His sword was already wet with blood, red droplets dripping off the tip.

For a time, all was quiet and no one spoke.

A man who’d fallen before the youth looked like he was still breathing, though only faintly. Another man knelt next to him and looked up at the youth in blue.

“Who are you? Why do you have that sword? Only our leader should be able to inherit th—” In the middle of speaking, he caught sight of his elder brother, facedown on the ground. The man’s older sibling was the current leader of their clan. Sure enough, his hand was curled around the hilt of a sword identical to the one the mysterious young man was carrying.

There should’ve only been one of that blade in all the world. What did this mean? Why did this young man have the weapon’s twin and know of their holy place? Why had he tried to kill his elder brother?

The man’s mind swirled with doubts, and the one garbed in blue looked down at him. “You were just and fair. You treated me sincerely, which is more than I can say for my overly fickle father. It was you who taught me how to fight. I’ll always be grateful for that.”

“…What did you say?”

He was certain he’d never taught this boy anything. This was their first time meeting. The man’s clan was nomadic. They were a band of robbers that drifted from one country to the next. This strange blue assailant had appeared in one of the safe houses the clan maintained.

The man’s older brother, the leader, leveled a furious look at the youth. Evidently, the mysterious boy had appeared while they were raiding a town, and they’d chased him off. The leader went after the fleeing boy and entered this sacred place. By the time the leader realized he’d been lured into a deserted area, the one in blue cut him down easily.

The boy ignored his questions and continued blithely, “I actually wish I could’ve saved my mother. But even if I’d prevented that raid, I wouldn’t have disappeared. I know that if I let him live, he’ll make my mother unhappy someday. He’ll burn her village down and take her away, treating her like his plaything. He won’t give her enough food, and he’ll make her sleep on straw. He’ll whip her harder when she gets sick and weak. He’ll try to be a good father to me, but…no father of mine would treat my mother like an old rag.”

The youth’s words were directed at the clan leader’s younger brother, who could only guess at the meaning of the speech. Dazed, he looked at the boy and asked, “What are you saying…? You and he aren’t even that far apart in age. He can’t be your—”

“Exactly. This all happens later for you. But that future isn’t going to exist. I’ve altered it for the sake of my mother.” The boy scowled, and his face steeled against pain. “My mother was a kind and beautiful person. She should never have been forced to live that kind of life…”

The youth in blue let out a deep sigh. Quietly, he spoke into the dark cave.

“After her death…I learned of a way to change the past. Then I came here.”

His voice echoed off the rock walls and faded away. The clan leader’s younger brother ruminated on what the boy had said over and over. Finally, he said, “…So that means you’re…”

What the boy said pointed to only one thing.

He’d come from the near future to change the past. The one in blue was the spawn of the clan leader and some woman he’d abducted. The young man had somehow gone back in time to save his mother from her fate.

It sounded ridiculous, unbelievable even. That the boy carried a copy of the clan leader’s sword was powerful evidence, however. The weapon was only to be bequeathed to the next head of the faction of bandits, after all.

“Tell me your name,” the younger brother of the clan leader insisted, hardly understanding why he’d said it himself. He simply felt like if he didn’t ask now, he’d never know. Nothing would be left of the boy. It would be as if he were never there. Perhaps the man asked for a name because he believed that. For the first time, the boy’s face relaxed.

“You were the only one who was sympathetic to my mother. You helped me when I was little and buried her in her home village. That’s why I’ll tell you everything. My name—and how I came to be here.”

The boy glanced down at his father on the ground. A flowing pool of blood made it clear that he had little time left. That much was clear to all three who were present. The boy returned the sword to its sheath and presented it to his young uncle. “If possible, give this sword to my mother someday. Tell her it’s a gift from someone who wishes her happiness.”

As soon as the boy’s father died, he would wink out of existence with him.

With that moment fast approaching, the uncle accepted the sword…and nodded.

The eastern side of the mainland was home to the major nation of Gandona and an equally large country called Mensanne. There were many far smaller states that dotted the area as well. This created a land of many crisscrossing international borders. Unfortunately, this often gave rise to conflicts. Many of the smaller domains repeatedly invaded their neighbors.

Yarda’s invasion of Farsas ten years ago was one such case. Despite Yarda’s sudden attack, Farsas easily repelled the incursion. At the time, Yarda was well on its way to major nation status, but defeat saw it relinquishing half of its land.

One hundred years ago, Farsas built the fortress of Minnedart to keep an eye on its tumultuous eastern border. It was the largest garrison in the country, with thirty thousand troops stationed there at all times to secure the edge of Farsas territory.

“Inspecting the fortress? I’ll go, too. If I take my eyes off you, you’re bound to wind up in trouble,” said Tinasha.

“You’re the only one who would say that,” returned Oscar.

“Everyone thinks it; they just don’t tell you.”

Oscar eyed the witch from his desk. She was standing before him, riffling through his stack of paperwork. In three days, Oscar was heading to Minnedart with several military officers to conduct a regular inspection.

As the witch read up on the eastern border, she hummed admiringly. “I see there was a skirmish ten years ago.”

“A small one, yeah. You’re not really up on this stuff, are you?”

“I normally keep to myself… Ten years ago means you were alive to see it, right?”

Oscar thought that Tinasha’s long life often made her phrase things somewhat strangely, but he kept that idea to himself. Instead, he cast back to his memories of the conflict. “Yep. I remember it because during the cease-fire negotiations, Yarda said they wanted me to marry their princess.”

“What happened with that?” Tinasha pressed.

“I didn’t agree. It only would’ve made things worse,” Oscar explained.

“Oh right,” Tinasha said.

At the time, Oscar still had his curse. If the princess from Yarda had gotten pregnant and died, the two nations’ tenuous peace would’ve broken down in a heartbeat.

The curse breaker herself muttered, “Indeed, indeed,” evidently having banished all memory of the curse now that it was gone.

It seemed that Yarda bitterly regretted the entire affair, as they interpreted Farsas’s inexplicable rejection of the offer to mean that a Yardan princess wasn’t good enough to be queen of Farsas. Yarda had been in too weak of a position to back out of peace talks at the time, however, and ten years had done little to close the power gap between the two neighboring states.

While Oscar attended to other matters, he added, “It’ll take about three days, so pack for that.”

“All right,” Tinasha replied. She returned the papers she’d taken to the desk and vanished from the room. Snorting at how abruptly she’d left, Oscar picked up the documents.

On the day of the observation, Oscar, Tinasha, General Granfort, and three officers used a transportation array to reach the fortress of Minnedart.

Farsas had over forty generals, and Granfort was the oldest among them. His initial misgivings about the witch had softened quite a bit with time. This probably had something to do with Oscar’s father, the former king, recounting the events of seventy years ago to the members of the royal council.

This served to clear up the misconception that Tinasha was a witch scheming to possess the country and revealed that she had claimed the throne of Tuldarr. Someone like that had to be acknowledged as highly valuable to society. Granfort and the others came to welcome her as a counterbalance to Oscar, considering how she often scolded him and kept him in line.

Two generals stationed at Minnedart welcomed the inspection party. General Edgard, who commanded the fortress, was Granfort’s peer. The other, Galen, was a rather young officer of only twenty-seven years. They both appeared surprised to see the witch but concealed that feeling immediately and knelt to bow to their king. Once the ritual greetings were complete, Tinasha tugged on Oscar’s sleeve. “I really think I should have come in disguise…”

“That would be no fun for me. It’s fine,” Oscar replied in clipped tones. Tinasha scowled. As she followed him down a corridor in the fortress, she looked out the window and saw kids playing in a courtyard below. “Children live here?”

“Residents of a nearby village have been living here since last year. The men of the town died in a battle, so Minnedart took in their elderly, women, and children.”

“A battle…” Tinasha sighed. The children’s cheerful shrieks of joy echoed throughout the courtyard.

Carel, a soldier stationed at Minnedart, saw that it was his break time and headed for the courtyard. Once the kids saw him, they dropped the stones they were playing with and ran up to him gleefully.

“Carel! Tell us a story! We want a story!”

“A story, huh? What do you want to hear?”

“The story of the blue knight!”

“Again?” Carel asked. He removed his sword and placed it on the ground before sitting down cross-legged. He was only eighteen. Having joined the army two years ago, Carel was still at the recruit training stage. The kids surrounded him, their eyes shining with anticipation.

“Once upon a time, when our settlement was a vast prairie, there lived a beautiful girl in a village. A never-ending stream of suitors longed for her hand in marriage. But she turned them all away.”

“I guess none of them were very handsome.”

“Hush and listen. But one day, bad men on horses attacked the village. The bad men set fire to houses, burned the village, and tried to kill people. But then a knight dressed all in blue appeared. He drove out the bad men and saved the girl they were about to carry off. She was deeply moved and said she would be glad to marry him, but he declined and disappeared. The end.”

“Carel, that was over too fast!”

“Tell us a better story!”

The children protested one after another. Carel answered seriously, “It’s all true. That’s your story, and don’t ask for more.”

The kids continued to pout, and Carel was reaching to poke at their cheeks when he heard a young woman giggling from behind him. Whirling around, he saw a lovely and unfamiliar woman standing there. She met his eyes and bobbed her head to him.

“I’m sorry. I was curious about what kind of story you were telling,” said the king’s witch as she grinned.

“If that was over too fast, does that mean the real story is much longer?”

Carel was thrown into a fluster upon learning of her identity, but when Tinasha asked for details about the tale, he sat back down. The children had lost interest and gone off to draw pictures on the ground some distance away.

“The story I told is actually a real thing that happened in our village two hundred years ago. The blue knight was apparently the son of the girl he saved.”

“Er… So you’re saying he came from the future?” Tinasha asked.

“That’s right. He was the son she had after she was kidnapped by the riders. It’s said he came to the past to change his mother’s ill fate. Changing the past in such a way meant he’d never be born, though. Even knowing that, he still saved her… And legend has it that this is the sword the blue knight left behind.”

Carel held up the sword he’d set aside. The hilt was engraved with a horse motif. The blade appeared well used but carefully maintained. That it had been handed down for two centuries suggested there could be some magic housed within it.

The witch examined the weapon, then voiced an objection. “I see… I think this story is far from the kind meant for children.”

As folktales go, it was well made, but it was public knowledge that there was no way to go back in time, even with magic. The part about the knight coming from the future wasn’t true, but it was still an intricately formed story. Tinasha looked back at the kids playing.

“Do they come from the same village as you?” she asked.

“Yes… Actually, our home was attacked by a tribe of riders a year ago… We sent out troops to defend ourselves, but almost all the men were killed. Survivors were graciously allowed to stay here. Sometimes I curse myself for not having been there. I’m sure I could’ve done something…” Carel bit his lip.

Tinasha’s face darkened. According to Oscar, a band of horse riders belonging to no country—a group known as the Ito—had long plagued these lands. They were nomadic and roved from nation to nation. Their raids were sudden, and they disappeared just as quickly as they came. Many attempts had been made to stamp them out, but as they would immediately cross into another country and go into hiding, they’d evaded justice for a long time.

“The village chief’s wife hasn’t smiled for a whole year because her husband died protecting her. They just crush people’s lives underfoot without a care… I can’t let them get away with what they do,” Carel spat, his hands curling into fists. Anger filled his eyes, as if his hated foes were right there before him.

Revenge begat revenge. Tinasha knew that all too well.

That was why she couldn’t allow any threats to Oscar, not even the tiniest seed. She would intervene and nip them in the bud before they could take the form of revenge. She knew they were all laughable tricks. She also knew that she would accept it if she got herself killed someday as a result.

Regardless, she’d lived for far too long to cling to ideals… Her hands were already covered in blood.

After dinner following the first day of inspection, Galen asked Oscar about his sleeping arrangements and Oscar burst out laughing. The rest of the party gaped as their king howled uproariously.

“E-er, did I say something I shouldn’t have?” inquired Galen.

“Unbelievable. Did someone put you up to that?” snickered Oscar.

Galen had asked Oscar if the witch would be staying with him. It had seemed to be an innocent enough question, but it just as easily could’ve been the work of council members who’d pestered Oscar about marriage and heirs. After Oscar declared that he didn’t intend to choose anyone but Tinasha, quite a few people were now trying to push him in that direction.

Oscar prepared to tell Galen he was wrong, but Tinasha spoke up first from her place beside the king. With a hint of exasperation, she said, “If Oscar doesn’t mind, I don’t, either.”

“…Do you have a fever or something?” Oscar asked, placing his hand against her forehead in true confusion.

She didn’t feel hot, though she did frown at him. “I’m the one who insisted on coming along. It’s fine, I’ll just change my shape.”

“Oh right.”

Oscar remembered how she’d recently morphed herself into a dragon like Nark. The witch had the ability to change her outward appearance and age at will. With Tinasha as a wholly different creature, it was true that there would be nothing improper about them sleeping together.

“In that case, I’ve got no complaints,” Oscar declared.

Galen breathed a sigh of relief and departed. Oscar and Tinasha were left alone, and the witch said feelingly, “It’s actually perfect. This way I’ll know if you sneak out at night.”

“There really is no trust in this relationship…” Oscar groaned.

“I’d think it strange if there were,” Tinasha retorted coolly, then let out a little yawn.

The after-dinner conference lasted long into the night. The main topic of discussion was Yarda’s renewed suspicious activity. Oscar gave instructions to investigate, then retired to his bedchamber. There he found the witch dozing on the couch. It looked like she’d bathed and changed into loungewear.

“Tinasha, don’t sleep there,” Oscar said, tapping her lightly on the cheek, but she didn’t stir.

She’d never know if I snuck out now, thought Oscar ruefully. Unfortunately, even if he did, there was nothing to do right now.

Deciding to let Tinasha have a proper night’s rest, Oscar picked up her light frame and carried her to the bed—then he paused. He remembered how she shot up from the bed the last time he laid her down like this.

Trauma from four hundred years ago was the cause of that, but Tinasha might still be plagued by that same nightmare. Even if things with Lanak had been resolved, Oscar couldn’t be sure. After a few seconds’ consideration, he sat down on the bed with Tinasha in his arms. He lay her down in his lap and poked her cheek again.

“Wake up, wake up.”

With a little groan, the witch’s eyes fluttered open. Dark spheres heavy with sleep blinked up at Oscar.

“If you’re gonna go to sleep, do it in the bed,” Oscar chided.

“Okay…,” Tinasha murmured, crawling over to a corner of the huge bed with his help. Then she curled up like a cat and fell back to sleep.

While Oscar was relieved to see she wasn’t having a nightmare, he realized something else with chagrin.

“You didn’t change your shape at all…,” he muttered, grabbing a lock of her hair. This time, however, she showed no signs of waking.

Sighing, Oscar covered Tinasha with the blankets and then left to go take his own bath.

There were images she could never forget.

Blood and the body of her fallen husband. The young man she could see just past his body. His arm on the ground.

For whatever reason, these gruesome memories of the past played back in black and white.

The only color was the chilling eyes of the man glaring at her.

They were a deep green, the color of a forest that knew no sun.

She didn’t want to see him ever again. She didn’t want to look.

But that green continued to torment her.

After leaving the witch where she was and going to sleep, Oscar awoke in the dead of night with a strange suffocating sensation. He blinked his eyes open but had trouble seeing anything. His body felt heavy. Something warm was touching him.

As that went on, he realized something had slipped between his lips and was licking into his mouth. He woke up instantly.

Oscar was shivering and dizzy all over. The woman’s tongue intertwined with his. His hands were held down, and he moved one to touch her cheek.

She noticed it and slowly pulled back. She sat up and lay a hand along his face; he was staring at her. With the empty eyes of a dreamer, she gazed into his blue eyes…and spoke.

“Wrong…,” Tinasha murmured, then suddenly shouted, “No!” With that cry, she leaped up.

Oscar gaped at her. “What do you think you were doing…?”

“I got synced up…,” Tinasha replied, sounding mortified. She clutched the sides of her head as she leaned over the bed.

As she moaned in distress like a child, Oscar came back to himself and patted her head. “That’s enough—just explain. I don’t understand what’s happening. Did you suddenly feel like marrying me?”

“Not at all…”

“You don’t have to answer so fast.”

“I was in a deep sleep, so I dreamed on someone else’s frequency…”

“What the hell?” Oscar asked, rubbing his temples. The manner in which he’d been roused from bed had left his head spinning. Checking the clock, he saw it was still hours before dawn.

The witch pulled her knees under herself, sitting up straight on the bed. She appeared somewhat more collected now. “Most likely, someone in this fortress is asleep and dreaming of something passionate. They’re unconsciously broadcasting those thoughts. The person in question probably has magic, but likely doesn’t know how to control it. Something like this wouldn’t affect normal people, but I have magic, and I was tired… I guess I picked up on it. I’m sorry!”

“That was bad for my heart.”

“Please forget all about it…,” the witch begged, groveling. Just looking at her like that filled Oscar with fatigue. He didn’t even consider taking advantage of the situation; he was just exhausted. This brief, strange incident had left him feeling as though heavy stones were weighing down his nerves.

“You said it was wrong. What was wrong?” Oscar inquired.

“Your eye color, I think. It wasn’t green…,” Tinasha admitted.

“I’m glad you woke up,” Oscar said coldly. The witch refused to meet his eyes. Even if his response hadn’t been so frigid, she was still too ashamed of her own conduct. “Anyway, I’m going back to sleep. You better change your shape like you said you would.”

“Okay…”

Oscar lay back down, rolling so that he was facing away from Tinasha. The witch finally lifted her head and changed into a black kitten. Feebly, she wrapped her tail around herself. Unfortunately, sleep proved elusive for her after the shameful mistake she’d made.

When he woke up the next morning, Oscar picked up the curled-up cat by his pillow. The little animal gave a big yawn and jumped onto his shoulder, where it stretched. Oscar stroked its neck and said, his voice low, “If you want to stay a spirit sorcerer, you better remain in that form all day.”

The warning sent a shiver through the cat, and the creature shrank in on itself, ears drooping.

During the morning of the second day of inspection, Oscar made the rounds through the fortress. He listened to discussions of repairs for the deteriorating bastion walls. After that, he retired to a makeshift study and reviewed other reports. A few representatives of the refugee villagers requested an audience. Oscar granted it, and in came an elder—the former chief of the village—and a lovely young woman in her late twenties. Her pale golden hair was bound up, revealing the lines of her fine features. Ordinarily she would have been a peerless beauty, but at the moment, pronounced shadows cast a pall over her looks.

Sensing the presence of visitors, the black cat curled up on the corner of the desk lifted its head. It sat up slowly and stared at the young woman. Oscar took notice and glanced at her.

“I see. So it’s you.”

“Excuse me?” the woman asked.

“No, it’s nothing.”

The woman introduced herself as Elze, the widow of the chief who was murdered. Even when she smiled to be polite, sorrow could be felt in every line of her face. With the greetings concluded, she turned to leave, but Oscar called out to stop her. “Did your late husband have green eyes?”

His casual question caused her to stiffen. Her grief-stricken expression froze in shock, which Oscar found suspicious.

“No, they were brown.” The elderly former chief was the one to answer.

“Huh. Ah, sorry for asking about something trivial. You can go,” Oscar declared. Once they’d left the room, he rested his chin on a hand thoughtfully. Bored, he sent the ornamental crystal ball on the desk rolling toward the cat. Its ears perked up, and it pounced on it.

Oscar petted the cat as it toyed with the sphere, and he whispered into its black ears, “Whose dream do you think she was seeing?”

The cat ducked its head in a shrug and batted at the ball again with one black paw, sending it spinning.

Come noon, Oscar rode out of the fortress on horseback with Granfort and the other officers and soldiers.

Minnedart’s inspection was also something of an excuse to check on things in the adjoining country of Yarda. With a black cat riding on his shoulder, Oscar gazed curiously at a reddish-brown, craggy expanse from his perch on a cliff. “The landscape changes as if there really was some sort of boundary. It looks completely different from the fortress’s surroundings.”

“People say this area was formed from some kind of upheaval of bedrock during the Dark Age. There’s even steeper canyons closer to the border and tiny fissures hidden in the ground, so please be careful,” Tinasha warned.

“Will do,” Oscar said.

Rocky hills and jagged peaks of many different sizes clustered together to form a natural wall. The formation had long safeguarded Farsas’s eastern front until Minnedart was built. An incursive force that was marching west into Farsas would have to veer farther south to avoid the difficult terrain. That would put such an army’s path close to the border with Gandona.

Ten years ago, however, Yarda had crossed these precipitous canyons to invade. The eastern half of the rocky ravine had belonged to Yarda at the time, allowing them to lay their preparations without Farsas’s knowledge.

Oscar stroked the cat on his shoulder. “Time to head back. I still have to tour the village.”

Today marked one year since the refugees’ village had been attacked. Plans were underway to help them relocate. Many wanted to look around the ruins of their old home before they did so, however. They had left the fort together and were waiting with a guard escort at the base of the canyon region.

Oscar grabbed the reins and turned his horse around. Avoiding the protruding rock pillars that dotted the landscape, he guided his steed as it snaked its way down. As Oscar was jolted along in the saddle, he took in the sharp features of his surroundings. “When I’m with Tinasha, we teleport places a lot. It’s nice to travel normally for once.”

When the black cat heard that, it whapped Oscar’s head with a front paw. The king didn’t look like he minded the cat’s slaps, however. The rest of the party, following behind, didn’t know quite how to respond and stayed silent.

Once they were halfway through their descent, Oscar’s horse suddenly stopped. The black cat on his shoulder raised its head.

“Your Majesty? What’s wrong?” called Granfort. Before Oscar could respond, a shadow loomed overhead.

Looking up, they saw a full lineup of men stood on the rocky hills towering on either side. Each man had an arrow readied.

The king had close to fifty of the projectiles pointed at him. With startling calmness, he mused, “Ito, huh? I thought you were a horse tribe. Where are the horses?”

“Y-Your Majesty… You shouldn’t provoke them…,” Granfort insisted.

“Tinasha, don’t make a move. Stay down,” Oscar instructed, giving his protector a concise order. Hearing her name calmed the men’s nerves a fraction. But the cat, half on its feet already, threw him a look of protest before reluctantly settling back down on his shoulder.

One of the Ito archers stepped forward. He was tall and appeared to be in his early thirties. He looked down on the Farsasian party with eyes the same deep green shade as a sunless forest.

“I’m the leader of the Ito. I want to talk to the most powerful one among you.”

“I guess that’d be me,” Oscar drawled. Then, with all the majesty of a king infusing his tone, he went on to command, “Give us your name.”

The people of Farsas all sat up straight at that, and the archers recoiled slightly as well. Only the man who’d declared himself the Ito leader met Oscar’s gaze without flinching, though he did seem surprised. He threw out his chest and declared arrogantly, “My name is Javi. We want something and came to negotiate.”

“You’re awfully shameless for a thief. We wouldn’t mind cutting all of you down right here, right now,” Oscar needled.

“That’s some big talk considering the situation you’re in. Don’t you have eyes?” Javi retorted. He probably reasoned that with all his archers’ arrows trained on the Farsasian party from the high ground, they could kill the whole lot of them in a second. The instant a single shaft was loosed, however, it would be the Ito who fell. Oscar had only traveled to the border with a small party precisely because it was fewer people to protect if a fight broke out.

The king of Farsas responded with a shrug.

“You all can think what you want. Looting’s been our clan’s way of life for a long, long time. We take pride in it. How is that different from taking an army and attacking another country? I’m following a much more honest way of life than a man who doesn’t fight and just gives orders,” Javi snapped.

A cynical smile played about Oscar’s lips as the fur of the black cat on his shoulder bristled. It opened its mouth to growl threateningly, but Oscar picked it up by the scruff of its neck. He ignored the little animal’s struggling.

“You do love to talk, don’t you? What do you want?” asked Oscar.

“A woman,” Javi answered.

At that, Oscar and the cat exchanged a glance.

A dry breeze blew in from the deserted village. From horseback, Elze gazed out into the distance.

This had been a peaceful place once. At the time, Elze had thought things would continue that way forever.

She hadn’t been unhappy with her husband or her life in the village. Elze had married the man she’d been ordered to and built a home with him. He cherished her, and their life was idyllic. She was very happy—up until the day the village was attacked.

The man who killed her husband. His eyes had seared into her.

Elze didn’t want to see him ever again. She found herself unable to forget those deep green eyes, however.

How often had she wished to forget them? She’d spent many nights desperately wishing to return to how things used to be.

The more she thought, the more those eyes plagued her dreams. She had no idea how long it would be until she could escape them.

“What’s wrong, my lady?” asked Carel. The question brought Elze back to herself. The young man assigned to guard her was from her village. The concern in his voice was plain.

Elze shook her head minutely. “It’s nothing. I apologize.”

Each time she was called “my lady”—the term of address for a chief’s wife—it brought reality rushing back. She felt suffocated, like there was nowhere for her to go.

That hollow sensation was absolutely because she’d lost her husband. Elze could no longer see a place to move on to or a path to tread.

Ever since that day, she’d remained frozen.

“Elze,” came the voice of the former chief who’d accompanied her. She turned around, only to seize up in astonishment.

“Why…?”

The king’s expedition party was coming down from the rocky hills, but its members had clearly changed since they’d set out. General Granfort was at the head of the group, instead of the king. What’s more, men who appeared to be Ito riders were mixed in among them.

Guards around Elze began buzzing with concern over what’d happened. Carel’s face darkened at the sight of his hated enemies. Granfort, however, galloped over to Elze and said, “I apologize, but the situation has changed. We need you to come with us before we go to the village.”

“Come with…? To—to where…? Why are they…?”

“It’s a summons from His Majesty. You, at the very least, are to come with us,” Granfort declared with a grave look. Then he turned his horse around. Numb with shock and incomprehension, Elze followed, only to be reunited with those green eyes she had desperately wished never to see again.

The rocky protrusions jutted up together onto a hilltop composed of reddish-brown rock. Upon that was a natural, open clearing.

It was circular, situated atop huge, natural columns. The site was so high that a fall almost certainly meant death. There were large pieces of stone that rose higher surrounding it, however.

Oscar dismounted from his horse and brought only the cat with him to the unusually formed plateau. He looked around with admiration. “It’s like a giant cage. Interesting. Didn’t know this place existed.”

“This is a holy place for the Ito. It is said that a long time ago, a god once visited this place.”

“A god? Was it Aetea? A child of Aetea?”

“Neither. The god’s name has been lost. It was some other deity.”

Javi’s strange way of speaking made Oscar glance at the witch in cat form, but the cat only twitched its tail disinterestedly. Tuldarr had been an atheistic magic nation, after all.

More than thirty Ito riders arrayed themselves around the holy clearing, making no effort to hide their hostility. Oscar paid their attitude no mind, inspecting the cracks and fissures in the ground. He looked up to ask Javi, “So you want a duel?”

“I do. If you want to call over men from the fortress to fight, I’ll send a messenger.”

“No need. I’ll make do with the men I have here.”

The guards who accompanied their king didn’t appear intimidated, despite being outnumbered nearly five to one. They glared right back at the row of Ito men around the edge, who were emanating cold animosity.

Just then, Granfort appeared at the top of the narrow hill road leading to the clearing. Elze followed behind him, and she turned white as a sheet when she caught sight of Javi.

He stared at her evenly. “It’s been a while.”

“Ah…” was all she managed to get out before going motionless.

Oscar cocked his head to look at her. “Did Granfort tell you the situation?”

“Ah yes…,” Elze replied.

She was what Javi wanted.

One year ago, he’d failed to carry her off. This time for sure, he vowed to use force to take her away.

Currently, Elze had no one to protect her. Her husband as well as the men of the village were all dead. So Javi insisted on having someone from the fortress that had taken her in act as her defender. Not wanting to engage in open war with the Farsasian troops and waste the lives of his clan, the Ito man had proposed a duel.

The demand was the last straw for the Farsasian side. Many lost their tempers and called the Ito audacious, greedy thieves. To them, the Ito were criminals and in no position to request a fair match. They wanted troops summoned to crush the raiders head-on.

The people of the Ito were not without their own complaints.

When they looted towns, they didn’t kill women or children, and they had their own families to provide for. To them, pillaging was a duty they had to carry out to maintain their clan’s way of life.

However, no matter the Ito’s circumstances, looting and pillaging were acts that Farsas could not allow. There was no way that Farsas would simply nod understandingly and acknowledge the Ito clan’s assertions. That was where the negotiations broke down. It was Oscar who’d quickly put an end to things.

“Before us stands an enemy that has long eluded us. If we can win the duel and get them to do what we say, that’ll speed things up. That means that you are going to be the witness.”

“I—I…,” stammered Elze, so dumbfounded that she was like a hollow doll that couldn’t move. She stood there at a loss for words as uncontrollable emotions crashed over her. Behind her, Carel scowled at Javi with eyes burning with hatred.

Javi looked away from them and pointed to Oscar. “You choose three of your strongest. I’ll do the same. Sound good?”

“No problem here. It’ll be over faster with fewer people. Truthfully, I don’t mind if it’s just you and me.”

“What a stupid brat you are. All you do is mouth off. The people around you must suffer so much.” Javi snorted. The black cat tried to swoop down on him from Oscar’s shoulder, but the king wrapped a hand around its belly to hold it in place. The cat fought him desperately but couldn’t escape his grip.

“If we win, you’re forbidden from any looting and pillaging in Farsas from now on…and you know what will happen if you break your word,” Oscar stated, his voice turning low and threatening all of a sudden. Javi flinched at the decree but concealed the unconscious motion and nodded.

When Javi turned around and gave a signal, two men from the line along the edge stepped forward to fight in the duel. After approving them, he stared at Elze, who was still trembling next to Granfort.

She stared back at him, her beautiful face fraught with fear. It was no different than a year ago. She looked so forlorn and helpless that a gust of wind could blow her away.

That, however, was precisely what instilled such attraction in Javi.

He had met her during a looting where the smell of blood roamed heavy about the air. Shielded by her husband’s back, she’d struggled to hold him up. She was beautiful. Javi was done in at first sight. The fierce glint in her eyes as she’d looked at her husband had completely taken hold of him. He wanted to make her eyes glow that way for him.

Among Javi’s faded memories, only the image of her remained vivid and bright.

He could never forget the look of shock in her eyes as she stared at him over her fallen husband.

He had never felt this much attachment toward another person. But he wanted her badly. He couldn’t give up.

That was why he was here now.

Without taking his eyes off Elze, Javi rubbed his left arm. It had been magically reattached. Getting the limb back in proper working order had required a considerable amount of pain and hard work.

Elze’s eyes widened slightly. Her thin lips trembled.

Scratching his head in annoyance, Oscar walked over to where his team was. “So I’m definitely one of the three. What should we do about the other two…?”

He grabbed the cat by the back of its neck and lifted it up to eye level. “Going by order of strength, this one should be first, but right now she’s just a cat.”

Just then, the cat’s outline rippled. The tiny black kitten turned back into the witch’s original shape in a flash. Oscar’s face darkened as he scolded, “I told you not to change back. Are you asking to get punished?”

“Just because I was a cat, you can’t grab me by the back of the neck. I’ll suffocate!” Tinasha spat.

The others were speechless at the witch’s sudden appearance. No one thought that the king’s short-tempered little kitten was his protector in disguise. Rubbing the back of her neck, Tinasha said offhand, “I’ll go.”

“No,” Oscar refused.

“Let me finish… Of those two he’s going with, the shorter one is probably a mage.”

Oscar eyed the two men standing in the clearing. Both the muscular giant and the short-statured man were carrying swords and didn’t look like mages. If Tinasha said it was so, however, then Oscar believed her.

“Got it. I’ll leave him to you.”

“Understood,” Tinasha replied, already starting to tie up her long hair. Drawing closer to Oscar, she whispered, “Also… Isn’t there something strange about this place? I feel an odd presence.”

“An odd presence… They said it’s a holy place. Could that be it?”

“Mmm… Something about the story of ‘a visit from another god’ is fishy. If it wasn’t some member of Aetea’s lineage, then what did they take for a god?”

“A high-ranking demon maybe? That sort of thing happens a lot.”

“It does, but I think it’s something more…” Tinasha trailed off. The witch racked her brain, trying to figure out what it was that nagged at her. She shot a glance at Oscar with her dark eyes. “Maybe I should transport everyone to a different location? Like the castle training grounds or something.”

“That would certainly be interesting, but I don’t think they’d go for it. We just have to make our win quick,” Oscar said, patting her head.

That was when a young man ran up to him. “Your Majesty! Please choose me!”

The appeal came from a rather desperate-looking Carel. Oscar gazed into his eyes, which swirled with resentment. “Why?” asked the king.

“They’re the ones who attacked my village. They killed my father.”

Tinasha frowned. Oscar took that in, then returned his gaze to the soldier.

“What’s your name?”

“Carel, Your Majesty.”

“Got it. You’re in,” Oscar decided, and joy bloomed on Carel’s face.

Now I can defeat my enemies, the young man thought. He looked over at Elze, but she was still deathly pale and staring at Javi.

The first fight of the duel was between Carel and Joaquin, the enormous Ito man. The spectators held their breath as the two men drew their swords and faced off. Carel had the slenderer physique by a long shot. Against a person as large as Joaquin, it looked like a child was battling an adult.

Joaquin looked down on his opponent and sneered. “You’re a survivor from your village? You should have stayed hidden.”

“Shut up, you savage!” cried Carel, readying his sword. It was obvious to all that he exuded inexperience.

The match seemed decided before it had even started. Javi, however, frowned at Carel. “That sword… Why does he have it?”

Carel’s weapon was the spitting image of a blade passed down from leader to leader in the Ito clan since ancient times. Javi was certain the real sword had been shattered in a battle during the previous clan leader’s time.

Javi found it suspicious. Then he recalled something from his childhood.

Deep in a sacred place, there was a story carved into the wall next to a mural—

“And start!” called out a voice, signaling the beginning of the match.

Carel swung his sword in a huge arc before running straight at Joaquin. He brought a blow down on his opponent with all his might. Joaquin deflected it with a smile, however. Carel slashed over and over at the giant man, but none of the swings ever made contact. Even so, Carel kept attacking head-on.

After a while of batting slashes away, Joaquin’s lips curved up and he struck down powerfully from above.

Unable to withstand the force of the strike, Carel was sent sprawling. The Ito guffawed as if they were watching an entertaining spectacle.

“Dammit…,” Carel muttered, face flushing with shame. He wasn’t even allowed a chance to get back on his feet, however. Joaquin brought his sword down to crush the young man. Still seated, Carel scrambled back. The desperate maneuver had afforded him safety, but it didn’t look like he’d be able to avoid a third attack.

Carel’s eyes shut in anticipation of death. No impact came, though, no matter how long he waited. He opened his eyes a fraction. “What…?”

There was a slender sword standing right before his eyes. Joaquin’s sword had been deflected by one much thinner and was now embedded in the ground. A small pair of feet crunched on the sand next to Carel, who was still in shock.

“The match goes on. I’m up next,” said the witch in a voice as cold as ice. Her long ebony hair was bound up tight.

“You’re sending out a woman? Farsas must be running out of capable people,” sneered Javi.

“She’s actually too capable, if you can believe it,” Oscar retorted flippantly.

All eyes were on Tinasha, who casually readied her sword. Her formfitting mage’s costume threw her slim and elegant figure into sharp relief. The second man to fight, Inigo, grinned at her lasciviously as he gave her body a long, slow once-over. He pulled out a curved sword and faced her. “You’re a fine woman, though a bit too skinny. Maybe I’ll skin you.”

“You’re certainly welcome to try,” Tinasha invited, flashing him a cruel smile. When the start signal came, she leaped off the ground. Her strike wasn’t powerful, but it came down with fearsome speed. Reflexively, Inigo held up his sword to block it. The witch’s weapon worked so fast that the Ito man’s head was liable to go flying off his shoulders if he lost focus for even a moment. He reassessed his initial contempt of the woman.

In a cold sweat, Inigo blocked three more attacks, then poured his strength into launching one big blow. Tinasha dodged it and jumped back. After waiting for the right timing, Inigo aimed his sword point right for her. He cast a spell, pouring magic into it.

He brought forth an invisible rope and sent the tip flying toward Tinasha’s thin frame. Conjured cord twined around her, binding her instantaneously.

Her arms were lifted up, and with her wrists bound, she dropped her sword. The Farsasian side broke into a commotion when they saw that.

On the other side, crude grins spread across the faces of the Ito clansmen, who were well aware of Inigo’s power.

Not many mages used swords. Few would’ve guessed that Inigo could use magic, especially after taking his rustic dress into account. Inigo had used that misconception to take advantage of scores of people in the past, toying with them before killing them. Inigo had savored every petrified look when his victims realized they’d been immobilized.

Inigo approached Tinasha and placed the point of his sword right between her collarbones. She met his gaze evenly, not appearing frightened at all.

“No one said we couldn’t use magic, did they?” he snickered, sure of his victory. He moved to slit her costume open with his blade.

Before he could, his sword shattered apart with a ringing noise.

Inigo’s jaw dropped as he stared at the sparkling fragments lying on the ground. It didn’t feel real, and he didn’t quite register the evident danger he was in. He looked up to find his opponent floating in the air with a merciless smile on her lips. In a lilting voice, she said, “You’re right. No one said we couldn’t use magic.”

Her ivory hands closed around his neck. Then the clearing echoed with the sounds of his screams.

“So that puts us at a draw,” Oscar said matter-of-factly, eyeing Tinasha after she came back from her fight.

Javi looked stunned. “What did you do to Inigo…? What is that woman?”

“A mage got done in by magic. I don’t think I did anything unusual,” Tinasha answered. She returned to Oscar’s side and undid her hair. “Okay, now let’s go home. Right away. As soon as possible.”

“What’s got you so spooked…? Well, go on, then, Tinasha,” he said. She caught his meaning and floated up to dab her blood behind his ears. That would allow a sword to get past his barrier, though not magic. Javi couldn’t cast spells, though, so that was enough.

As she was checking the spell, Oscar caught sight of her white earlobe and suddenly drew close and nibbled on it.

“Hyaugh!” she cried in a strange voice, blushing and jumping back. If she were still in cat form, the fur on her back would’ve been standing on end.

She pressed her hands to her ears, while Oscar tossed her an evil grin. “That’s for not doing what you’re told. Stupid cat.”

“Ugh! Why…?” Tinasha muttered reproachfully. Leaving her there, Oscar walked into the clearing, Javi following after him.

The air around them was tense. A dry breeze blew between the rock pillars.

Once he reached the center of the clearing, Oscar turned to look at Elze. He stared at her, something significant in his gaze. “What do you want me to do? Shall I kill him?”

Faced with this sudden question, Elze’s eyes widened and she gaped back at him.

She couldn’t think. No answer rose from her heart. Her breath came in faint gasps as she stammered, “Th-that man killed my husband…”

“I know. But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“Wh-what I want…”

All Elze had to go on were the facts of what had happened. She was born and raised in a completely normal environment. She’d gotten married as her parents had wished. What she wanted had never mattered. Elze had never been aware of a want or a desire of her own. She avoided what one should and never did anything improper. She had lived a very ordinary, stagnant life.

It was unthinkable for her to feel attracted to a man who was an enemy.

Standing next to the king, Javi’s deep green eyes bored right into Elze. She stiffened beneath the weight of his gaze.

She couldn’t answer, and Oscar eventually looked away to focus on his duel against Javi. He threw a sidelong look at the spectators and saw that Tinasha—perhaps doing what she’d been told—had changed back into a cat and was perched on top of a small rock pillar with her paws and tail tucked under her body. She looked extremely serious, which made Oscar snort as he pulled out Akashia.

“Hurry and come at me already. If I don’t get back soon, I’ll have a mountain of work,” Oscar taunted.

“Little brat… You better be ready,” Javi spat. He drew out a long broadsword. It was crafted to prioritize weight over sharpness and had the ability to smash apart an opponent along with their sword when he struck at full strength. Anyone who’d ever faced Javi knew to fear that weapon, but Oscar didn’t appear bothered in the slightest. Javi licked his lips and settled himself into position.

The start signal came.

As it did, Javi charged straight ahead. Immediately, he swung at Oscar.

His sword’s powerful slash was surely lethal for anyone on the receiving end, whether they parried it or not. Oscar leaped back to avoid it.

Javi struck back swiftly with his heavy weapon, closing the distance between them with a sideways swipe. Oscar dodged the second attack. When Javi’s next blow came, Oscar fended it off with the edge of Akashia. He then used his left hand to catch hold of Javi’s right arm.

“What?!”

Oscar ignored Javi’s cry. With incredible speed, Oscar drew back his own blade.

Formidable strength brought Akashia whistling forward, and the sword severed Javi’s arm just above the elbow.

The limb hit the ground with a dull thump. Soon after, a bestial scream ripped through the clearing.

Javi fell to his knees in pain, but he still reached out with his left hand for his fallen sword.

Before his fingers could touch the blade, however, Akashia was at his throat. A calm voice called to the Ito leader. “Looks like it’s my victory. I’ll make sure you honor our agreement.”

A cheer rose up from the Farsasian side. The Ito were breathless with astonishment.

Biting his lip, Javi glared at his right hand and his sword.

Elze nearly fainted as the match came to a close, but Granfort supported her.

Amid all the wild enthusiasm, her body felt strangely cold. Color faded from the world.

The only parts of the scene that seemed alive were the man groveling on the ground without his arm and the red of his blood.

She couldn’t hear anything.

She couldn’t say anything.

His green eyes took hold of her. His mouth formed the shape of her name.

The world lurched. Elze slumped over.

The next thing she knew, she was on her knees in the pool of blood, reaching out for his face.

“D… Don’t die…”

That was all she was finally able to say.

Javi’s emerald eyes were so much more brilliant than they’d been in her dreams.

Oscar exhaled and sheathed Akashia. He then went over to the black cat and placed it on his shoulder.

He turned back to gaze at the man and woman in the center of the clearing. The dazed woman was trying desperately to stanch the bleeding from the man’s arm.

Both sides watched in silence as the bizarre scene played out.

Oscar snorted in disgust and spoke to the cat on his shoulder. “Tinasha, can you reattach his arm?”

“I refuse.”

“I suppose you would, but stop the bleeding, at least.”

The witch wanted to tut at him in annoyance. Oscar had never intended to have her reattach the man’s arm in the first place. He’d just made an unacceptable request first, so that she’d agree to something less drastic afterward.

Tinasha wanted to protest, but in the end, she bit her tongue and cast a spell to stop Javi’s bleeding.

“What do you want to do about her? If you want to retrieve her, I will,” Tinasha said.

“She can decide for herself. If she’s been dreaming about him, let her face him herself,” the king replied, and the cat stared up at him.

That was when her dark eyes grew huge.

The wind died down flat and the atmosphere suddenly changed.

Sensing something abnormal, Oscar shouted, “Get away from there!” to the two people in the middle of the plateau.

“What?” Javi asked. He was the only one to react to Oscar’s warning. Elze wasn’t moving; her hands seemed affixed to the puddle of blood. She was looking down and away. Concerned, Javi put his left hand on her.

“Hey, what’s wr—?”

Something invisible repelled his hand.

The wind whipped back up again, swirling into a vortex with Elze at the eye. The maelstrom quickly grew faster and faster, throwing the people in the clearing into chaos. Oscar shouted at everyone, “Get down from here! You’ll get drawn into it!”

“Your order doesn’t decide anyth—!” shouted back an Ito member, whose words were cut off as the high winds pulled him off his feet. With a scream, he was swept out between a gap in the outcroppings and fell to the ground below. This shocked the other Ito clansmen into action.

“R-run!” someone cried, and panic rippled out among them. People crashed into one another as they hurried to escape. Cries of those being trampled could be heard.

Oscar kept a hand on the cat. The poor thing looked like it was going to be sucked up in the vortex.

“Tinasha, are you all right? What’s going on?”

“I’ll…teleport them…,” croaked a hoarse feline voice as a transportation array engulfed all of the Farsasian citizens in the clearing. Granfort and Carel disappeared with surprised looks on their faces, but Elze remained at the center of the whirling winds. She was stock-still in the pool of blood. Suddenly, from a corner of the clearing, Inigo shrieked and squirmed away.

Cracks opened up in the earth of the clearing. Immediately, they widened and the red bedrock inside fizzled into sand and started to crumble away, joining the windstorm.

“Not good… Tinasha, you okay?” Oscar asked again.

At this rate, the entire clearing was going to cave in. Oscar looked up at the cat on his shoulder.

Now the cat was breathing raggedly. Its tiny body was shivering, and its black gaze couldn’t stay steady. The witch was in a bad way, and a scowl crossed Oscar’s handsome face. He heard Tinasha’s feeble voice plead, “Oscar… You must…stop it…”

The king of Farsas saw that a white mist was seeping up from the fissure closest to the center. It was heading toward him, and he used Akashia to clear it away. The mist vanished when it touched the sword, but fresh vapor streamed up in an endless supply. The huge chasm in the middle was widening little by little, and some sort of particularly thick mass was crawling up from it. It looked distinctively human as it tried to stand up from within the deep crevice.

“What the hell is that…?”

The white mass reached its handlike appendages up to the sky. As it pulled itself free, it began to float into the air.

Something like that couldn’t be allowed to run free.

Oscar recognized that much intuitively, but there was little he could do in the face of such mighty wind. As a stream of sand reached his feet, Oscar brandished Akashia before the white creature.

Then he threw the royal sword into the air. It soared through the eddying gale and pierced the white thing. The strange creature’s body immediately dispersed.

Unfortunately, an even larger fissure cracked open the clearing. With a violent lurch, the cat fell from Oscar’s shoulder into the gigantic aperture.

“Tinasha!” Oscar shouted, reaching for her. He missed but dived in after her without a moment’s hesitation.

The king and the witch were swallowed up by the holy ground.

They tumbled into a pitch-black opening in the rock.

Before Oscar could worry about where they would land, the crevice opened up into a wide space filled with dim white light. He and Tinasha were falling toward a body of water. Oscar finally managed to catch hold of the black cat in midair, taking it into his arms.

Immediately after, the pair plunged into the water with an enormous splash.

Oscar broke the surface right away, boosting the cat up onto his shoulder. The cat had stiffened, its black eyes huge.

“Are you unharmed?” Oscar asked with urgency.

“Yu—”

“Yu?”

“Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck! I hate water! I hate being wet!”

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Calm down,” Oscar insisted, but even as he spoke, the sopping wet cat was in chaos, attempting to clamber up from the water to his head. It dug its claws into his back in its panic, and Oscar patted the little animal. “I understand. You can change back into a human, so calm down. We’ve got to swim for a bit—don’t fall in.”

The pair were in a faintly lit, gigantic cave with walls of rock. It was much bigger than the underground cave Tinasha had taken him to on his birthday, though not as deep. It was more of a spring than a lake. Oscar was uninjured due in large part to his protective barrier. The considerable impact against the water would have undoubtedly broken something otherwise. It may have just been a spring that formed when underground water pooled, but to the wet cat, it was a full-scale calamity.

What Oscar said must have brought Tinasha back to her senses and calmed her a little, because she transformed back into her original shape. The shift hadn’t freed her of a cat’s fear of water, however, and she clung tearfully to Oscar’s neck while he swam.

“I—I got soaked… My fur got so wet…”

“You can swim. What’s gotten into you? I can’t see where I’m going; move your arm out of the way.”

“Cats hate getting wet! What is this awful place?”

“I’d like to know that myself,” Oscar said, pulling the witch into his arms as he swam the rest of the way across the cold spring. When they reached the shore, he hoisted her up first before getting out of the water himself.

Muttering complaints all the while, Tinasha dried their clothes. As she did, she froze. “Oscar… Where’s Akashia?”

“I threw it. I saw it fall into a different fissure.”

“I—I see…,” she said, most likely well aware that scolding him for something that reckless wasn’t going to help their current situation.

Tinasha sighed as she finished magically drying her and Oscar’s clothes.

“What happened back there? You were acting odd. So were Elze and that Ito mage,” Oscar pressed.

“Right… It’s strange that you were the only one unaffected by what happened,” Tinasha replied as she took in their surroundings. A lichen on the walls was emitting a faint glow that illuminated the place. The witch pointed to a singular rift in the wall. “Let’s walk and talk. I want to get Akashia back.”

“Got it. Sorry about this,” Oscar apologized, ruffling her hair, and her eyes narrowed happily. They set out along the path the rift had carved for them.

“Some sort of external magical interference was making me feel sick. A strange power from underground was coming up toward our internal magic. For people like me and the Ito mage who’ve undergone magic control training, it felt like something shut up inside us was forcibly churning us up. I felt so bad I couldn’t cast any spells. I don’t know what it was like for Elze, but I can only imagine…”

“Mine is uncontrolled, but I was fine,” Oscar interjected.

“You’re a bit of a special case… You also had Akashia. That Javi guy might’ve managed to avoid the feeling, too.”

“Javi, huh? You didn’t like that place from the start, and I guess with good reason.”

Regardless of what’d happened, Tinasha and Oscar were now underground. Oscar looked down at the witch next to him. “If you want, you can wait back at the fortress. I’ll look for Akashia.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m your protector. I’m actually very glad I came with you. I shudder to think of you off getting yourself drawn into trouble without my knowledge,” Tinasha stated pertly. She then grabbed hold of Oscar’s sleeve. The witch may have meant her words to be a sign of her dedication, but it betrayed her compassion more than anything else. Oscar smiled and continued the march forward.

Beyond the rift in the rock lay a narrow, crooked path. Oscar ran his fingers along the surface of the wall. “This is man-made. Is this part of the Ito holy ground, too?”

“Most likely. I think the aboveground part is just a lid. The battle on that seal is what broke it,” Tinasha hypothesized.

“A seal… What of that white mist that was inside? Do you know what that was?” Oscar inquired.

“I don’t. There’s not enough evidence for me to hazard a guess. All I can sense is that it’s something bad for mages,” Tinasha replied.

An end to their path was nearing now, and they could see that it led into an open space. Tinasha was about to advance into it, but Oscar held her back. “Someone’s there,” he hissed, pulling out his dagger. Tinasha obediently followed behind him.

Concealing his footsteps as best he could, Oscar crept out into the round, empty chamber of rock. A man was crouched in the middle of it, and Oscar gaped at the sight of him.

“Did you fall down, too? Are you okay?”

It was Javi. He looked up at them with empty eyes. “You… How did you get here?”

“We fell. If you’ve got any fatal wounds, she can heal them,” Oscar replied.

“Hey, don’t speak for me. I plan to kill all of them as soon as I can,” the witch retorted, sounding truly enraged. Oscar grimaced.

He’d learned over the course of their time together that she was indifferent toward people who were hostile to her but merciless to those who treated him that way. She was much crueler than him, particularly to people who struck back even after their defeat was clear.

Both of them were confident in their own abilities. Oscar was content to let his enemies escape, but Tinasha beat them down thoroughly to nip any future revenge plots in the bud. It was not easy at all to rein her in when she was full of wrath.

“Leave it. You don’t have to handle everything. Besides, right now I have something to ask him.” Oscar turned to Javi. “What is this place?”

Murals and written characters were carved into the faintly glowing walls. Javi glared at Oscar and Tinasha as if they were something unpleasant. “This is the Ito’s sacred place. Only the leader and his closest associates know about it. Carved into the walls is the history of our clan… I’ve only been here once before as a kid.”

“Your history, huh? Interesting,” Oscar remarked. He walked up to the right edge of one wall, where the carvings looked the newest. Inscribed there was small, tightly packed text detailing the events of two years prior, with no pictures. In some places, it was too smudged to read, but here and there, Oscar could pick out words like two of the same sword, the past, magic crystal ball, and memories of a clan.

When he brought his face closer to get a better look, Tinasha called to him. “Don’t wander around. This is more annoying than I thought.”

“Hmm? What’s up?”

Tinasha was looking at an even older carving on the opposite wall. It was composed almost entirely of pictures, and she pointed to a drawing of a white human-shaped being. It had no face or clothing, and little balls were depicted at its feet. The other humans around it were reverently bowing down to it. “This is probably their visiting god. It’s the thing that just attacked us.”

“Oh, because it’s white? Is it okay to decide that’s what it is just based on color?”

“There’s more written here that makes it obvious. ‘The god who came from another place found the devil fiends mixed in among the humans and killed them. Everyone gave thanks to the god and feared it. They made a resting place for their deity.’ In the early Dark Age, devil fiend was an insult for mages. Mages weren’t treated as people back then. This ‘god’ can provoke reactions in people with magic, revealing them to be mages. That’s why the Ito revered it.”

“I see. So they turned their sacred land into its resting place. But what is it really? It looked like mist. Is it a demon?”

“No. A demon would have its own magic. This thing was different…”

Tinasha traced a part of the wall. Oscar squinted and saw that it was what must have been the god’s name, judging by context. But it had been scraped off at a later date, and only some of it was legible.

“…ity…di…? I can’t make it out,” Oscar finally admitted, brooding over it.

Tinasha whirled around to look at Javi, a grim look on her face. “The god that came from another place. Have you heard where that place is?”

Javi’s face was pale, but he glared at Tinasha and refused to answer. She let out a huge sigh. “The fact that you’re here but largely uninjured must mean that you followed the path down here yourself. You didn’t fall like us. You came in search of Elze, right? You better start talking before it’s too late. She had magic.”

“Wha—? That can’t be…” Javi gasped. He struggled to get to his feet, but he fell to his knees in agony. After a brief moment of indecision, he finally decided to give Tinasha the answer that she wanted. “Th-they said it came from the north.”

“I knew it…,” the witch whispered to herself.

“Tinasha, what do you know?” Oscar inquired.

“I can’t be certain, but there’s another country with similar stories of an entity that can badly affect the mind and body of those with magic. Its mere presence was said to be enough to cause their magic to run wild and hurt those around them…”

“It can’t be…” Oscar had heard the same story. Just two months ago, he’d needed to review an account of it.

Before sending out Farsasian troops to aid in a foreign country’s religious war, he’d thought to study up on that nation’s cultural history. It was in that research that he’d learned of the entity known as the World-Splitting Blade or Sleeping Paleface.

A huge country in the north worshipped that fearsome creature as a god.

“…Tayiri’s one true god, Irityrdia,” Oscar muttered, completely stunned.

“Most likely, yes… That giant thing was what they deified,” Tinasha affirmed.

Tayiri, which had long expelled and oppressed mages, was where Irityrdia had come from.

It was what led mages to run amok and hurt people. That in turn had caused those without magic to demonize spell casters.

This Irityrdia had drifted in from the north and come to rest here.

Tinasha uncrossed her arms and asked Javi, “So what does this room connect to? You must have an idea of where Elze is.”

“…I couldn’t get in. It connects to a chamber just below the center of the holy place. But there’s an invisible wall, and I can’t get past.”

“I’ll do something about that. Elze and Akashia probably ended up close to each other,” the witch declared, looking around the chamber. She spied a door across from the passage Javi must have come in through.

“Oscar, will you wait here?” Tinasha requested.

“I will not,” he stated flatly.

“I thought so! I expected this! I want to forcibly teleport you home!” Tinasha shouted at him, just the same as she always did.

Oscar didn’t answer, instead offering a thought. “Won’t a mage be at a disadvantage against that creature? Won’t it just be a repeat of what happened earlier?”

“I’ll put up a defensive wall. Besides, I’m not a cat anymore. If it tries to send out more magical interference, I just have to push back against it. I’m actually the most worried about you without Akashia.”

“Hmm. Perfect timing—I’ll just borrow this,” Oscar said, picking up Javi’s broadsword. He handled it as if it weighed no more than a feather, and Tinasha felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. With no fanfare, the duo headed for the far side of the chamber.

Oscar pushed past the door that barred the way to a piece of mythological history.

Beyond it, a winding narrow path extended outward. The surrounding stone made the trail just wide enough for Oscar and Tinasha to pass through.

The witch walked two steps behind the king so as not to get in the way of any sword attacks. Along with a long incantation, Oscar could see a finely wrought defensive wall taking shape around them.

The air changed degree by degree. As he made his way forward, Oscar asked, “If Irityrdia is up ahead, do you think you can kill it?”

“I’m not sure… As we saw earlier, an attack with Akashia appears to be effective, but we’re up against mist.”

“A mist creature, huh? Guess we’d have to burn it.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a creature… Judging by the interference I suffered, it was probably closer to a phenomenon. One that reacts to magic and rejects it.”

“Rejects magic? So it’s something like Akashia?”

“No, not quite that. Akashia dismantles and scatters magic here within the hierarchy where we live, but this phenomenon seems to try to push magic back to the plane in the hierarchy where magic primarily exists. The name World-Splitting Blade refers to how Irityrdia tries to cut through the gaps between planes in the hierarchy. Originally, we mages are born with power that’s on the magic plane. It feels like someone trying to make off with our very organs.”

“It definitely doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It’s not. But that’s only true for someone who’s undergone control training and can store magic in their body.”

“And for someone like Elze?”

“…Their magic wouldn’t be so easily cut out. It could mean they’d be blotted out, soul and all.”

“We’ll need to hurry, then,” Oscar declared, quickening his pace. Finally, the path began to widen and led into a chamber that looked like the carved-out inside of a mountain.

Instead of glowing moss, darkness and white mist clung to the place. Oscar scowled as he peered at the way forward. “Isn’t there some sort of invisible shell up ahead?”

“There is. That was probably what blocked that Ito man back there from entering. Someone cast a spell to prevent Irityrdia from escaping. Magic wouldn’t have been enough, of course—that’s why I believe they transmuted their soul into a spell. The seal must be very old, though; it shouldn’t have held for this long,” Tinasha mused. She sidled up next to Oscar and stroked the empty air.

Then they heard a soft shattering noise. The mist was stirring. The white shroud blanketing the room surged forward toward them. But a few steps before it could reach Oscar, Tinasha’s barrier blocked it. Glaring at the strange anomaly, the witch waved a hand.

“…Move aside.”

The witch’s power pushed back the pale fog that threatened to swallow the two. Sweat gathered on Tinasha’s brow as she forced the vapor aside.

Once Oscar realized that Tinasha probably couldn’t endure this for long, he patted her shoulder. “I’ll be back. Don’t overexert yourself.”

“Be careful,” she whispered and nodded to him. Oscar took off at a run. He meant to look for Elze and Akashia, but he couldn’t see anything with the mist pressing in on him. Tinasha expanded her defense to encompass Oscar for a time, but once he got too far for it to follow, he dived into the mist alone.

That was when everything shook and warped.

It felt just like up and down were all out of order, yet Oscar’s feet remained firm on the ground. The persistent mist was trying to interfere with his magic—attempting to overwhelm him and the barrier Tinasha had placed on him.

It wanted to crush his body to a pulp, but Oscar marched onward, undaunted. “Elze! Can you hear me?!”

Judging by how the woman had been acting aboveground, Oscar had to concede that it was possible she’d been pushed off this plane of existence. Even so, he called out in search of her. An instinct suddenly commanded that he draw his sword.

Something came whooshing down at Oscar from overhead, making a high-pitched sound when it clashed against his blade. Oscar tried to push away the other weapon, but his sword was suddenly confronted with nothing but empty air.

Tinasha’s efforts forced the mist back farther, compressing it tightly.

From within the alabaster vapors, Oscar saw a person emerge. The sight of her caused his handsome features to twist. “You…”

It was Elze. Her blank eyes were darting all over, and she held something white and swordlike in her hand. It looked like she’d lost her mind, as if she was a marionette controlled by strings.

She lifted one slender arm—and threw the pale sword at Oscar.

“Ngh!” he grunted. While he repelled the attack easily enough, the hurled weapon dissolved and turned to white mist.

“It’s possessed her. Not good.”

A corporeal opponent was a far easier target, but there was no way Oscar could attack Elze. As he hesitated, she swooped down upon him again. He parried another slash of a fog-formed blade, but he was at a loss for how to proceed. Elze was innocent in all this. Oscar found himself trapped in a stalemate. Seeing that her attacks weren’t landing, Elze leaped far back.

Then she opened both arms and threw out her chest.

Oscar didn’t know what she planned to do, but then he saw mist start to move toward her open mouth. A steady stream of it flowed into her petite frame.

“Oh, come on… That’s where this is going?”

There was little to do but watch the strange sight. Oscar had to wonder how such a slender body could house such a vast quantity of the strange miasma. He was granted precious little time to think, as Elze began to emanate a gentle light.

Oscar deliberated for a moment, and then he kicked off the ground and closed in on her. He slashed down from overhead to put an end to the mist influx.

An ivory hand stopped his sword, however.

“What?”

Clutched in Elze’s hand was the blade of a broadsword powerful enough to cleave bone. While Oscar was surprised, his body moved reflexively. He let go of the sword and leaped back.

Swinging from the blade, Elze brought the weapon to bear down at the exact spot where Oscar had been standing just a moment before. The huge sword she’d appropriated twisted like flimsy wire. As Oscar watched the weapon shatter to slivers in her grip, he wanted to burst out laughing.

“If this is what a god is, Aetea’s downright docile.”

“Come on now. You’re the king. Watch what you say,” came Tinasha’s exhausted voice. Oscar whirled around. The witch had stopped trying to push back the mist, as there was no need now that it was contained inside Elze.

Tinasha wiped the sweat from her forehead as she came over to Oscar. “That was pretty heavy labor… Any mages who faced that thing in the past definitely fell into endless despair.”

“You okay? You’re really pale.”

“I just feel extremely seasick. It’s like something’s churning up my insides… I can’t walk straight.”

“I don’t feel it that bad,” Oscar admitted in reply. His surroundings grew hazy in the mist, but it was nothing like what Tinasha was describing.

The witch shook her head feebly. “Half of my magic came to me later in life, so it’s easier for me to feel the effects, I think… As for you, it’s because your magic is sealed.”

“Sealed? This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Oscar said.

Tinasha’s eyes grew wide for a moment, but she immediately smiled as if nothing was wrong. “Oh, really? Then it must be my imagination. Let’s focus on what we’re going to do here.”

“I want to hear more about that later. Anyway, is there anything we can do about Irityrdia without killing Elze?”

“It’ll be very hard… Magic has almost no effect on it, so I can’t draw it out in the usual way. Having said that, it’s impossible to destroy whatever’s inside her without harming her body. The humanlike figure depicted in that mural may have also been a human who was possessed,” Tinasha explained without taking her eyes off Elze. “A physical form to attack makes things easier for us.”

The vapor that had once filled the room was now nowhere to be found. All that was left was a glowing woman in a dark chamber.

When she opened her eyes, they were completely white. From her slightly parted lips came a trail of fine mist. She appeared human but was something else.

The witch frowned. “For now, we need to get Akashia. It seemed to be capable of dispersing Irityrdia.”

Oscar scanned the gloom. Now that the fog had cleared, he could see something glinting in the distance. Its occasional shine had been calling to him for a while now.

“But if I cut Elze down with Akashia, she’ll die,” Oscar protested.

“She will. But if that thing gets out in the open, something far worse will happen. So as a last resort—” Tinasha cut herself off. Oscar sensed someone approaching and spun around.

A man had emerged from the passage into the chamber.

“I won’t let you kill her,” he swore. He glanced at what remained of his right arm and declared with even greater determination, “I will not let you kill her.”

He was so weak he looked like he could collapse any minute. Still, Oscar and Tinasha knew his words were no bluff.

Oscar started to say something, but the witch held up a hand to stop him. She turned to Javi and said, “I understand how you feel, but something bigger is at stake here. Irityrdia has possessed her. If she’s turned loose on the world, it will be nothing short of catastrophic. Once anyone with magic gets near her, they’ll either self-destruct or go mad. A berserk mage is a threat to everyone. Things like that are the reason Tayiri has spent over a thousand years ostracizing mages.”

Tinasha’s dark eyes mirrored a dark abyss. Her gaze was the sort one could only acquire after watching bloody conflicts repeat themselves throughout history.

One look from those dim orbs was enough to paralyze someone. It was unmistakably the glare of a witch. How bottomless her eyes could be was something she didn’t regularly reveal; Oscar squinted at her. Javi stiffened, and the witch went on in a voice as cold as ice. “What she is now is nothing but a vessel that will propagate more innocent deaths. Do you want the same mistakes of the past to repeat themselves? If you fail to understand, then I’ll start by killing you.”

Tinasha’s tone was enough to snuff the life from those who heard it.

Normal people would’ve cowered and begged forgiveness after one look into those ebony eyes.

The witch was only speaking the truth, however.

Javi cleared his dry throat. He looked at the stump of his arm…but then glared back defiantly at the witch. “I don’t care who she kills or how many.”

“That’s enough nonsense. You’ve got guts, laying down your own life.”

“Even so…I won’t let you kill her. She’s the one I want,” Javi insisted, stubborn to the last.

Tinasha stared at the Ito man. Her eyes told him nothing, and Javi shrank back a little under the weight of her gaze. He held his breath and cleared his throat.

“…Please save her,” he begged.

Tinasha frowned, appalled. She rubbed her temple with a finger. “I suppose I have to. But you’re going to help.”

She looked over at Elze. The woman was in a state of total possession, standing stock-still in the open space as if waiting for her next moment of opportunity. Tinasha gave Oscar and Javi brief instructions. Javi looked unsure but obeyed and took his position.

“Do you think we have a chance now?” Oscar asked.

“Mmm… I wish I had some sort of medium to ensure it’ll work. But I was a cat, so I didn’t bring any equipment.”

“What kind of medium?”

“Normally, I’d use crystals. You know, like the ones we saw at the foot of the humanlike thing in that mural?”

Evidently, those ancient carvings were what Tinasha was basing her plan off. Without a conduit like the ones that had been depicted, all she could do was take over the job herself.

Oscar suddenly straightened up in surprise and responded, “Oh, I’ve got something that might work. Here.”

He pulled a small bag containing a crystal ball from his breast pocket, and Tinasha’s eyes grew wide. “Why do you have something like this? You’re not a mage.”

“Because it’s your favorite toy. I brought the one from my desk.”

“I’m human! I only made myself look like a cat!” Tinasha squawked, her cheeks puffing up. Despite her protestations, she received the palm-sized sphere and inspected it. “Urgh… It’s a little too big… Won’t fit in my mouth…”

“What are you talking about? It’s a cat toy.”

“It’s not a toy!” Tinasha insisted loudly. She squeezed the ball, and it shrank to the size of a small pearl.

“What was that? How’d you do that?” Oscar inquired.

“Shrinking magic is a real thing, you know. Now watch—the crucial part is what comes next,” Tinasha instructed, popping the reduced crystal ball into her mouth. Oscar’s eyes bugged out. Suddenly, Tinasha asked, “If I became a threat to the entire world, would you kill me?”

It was reminiscent of something she asked before.

Was that the same situation Javi was facing at that very moment, or was it different somehow?

The witch’s question sounded like that of a little girl trying to probe into something she didn’t quite understand. Without any hesitation, Oscar responded, “Only if it were beyond a shadow of a doubt that you couldn’t be saved.”

No matter the situation, no matter the circumstances, if there was even a sliver of a possibility, he would reach out to help her.

He’d set her forward and get her on her feet. They’d move on, even if she were smeared in blood and mud—even if she’d garnered hatred from every side.

If she’d truly closed off every option and it was all over already, however…

In such a situation, Oscar knew he would be the one to bring Tinasha to her end. When he took the throne, he accepted the position knowing he needed to be prepared for that.

His words may have sounded callous, but they’d showed that he was more devoted to the witch than anyone.

Tinasha was left breathless at Oscar’s reply.

And then…she gave a heartfelt, blissful smile.

Her eyes were soft with feelings she couldn’t hold back as she gazed at him. “That’s why I can fight. Because I know you’d do that.”

She floated a few centimeters into the air and took Oscar’s face in her hands.

Tinasha’s dark eyes bore right into his. Then she closed hers, eyelashes fluttering, and pressed a kiss to Oscar’s forehead. After pulling back, she whispered in his ear, “Let’s go.”

The witch gave a solid pat to Oscar’s chest. At the same time, he saw the crystal ball go down her throat as she swallowed it.

Before he could think about what that meant, he broke into a run.

There was no more mist. Oscar was heading for Akashia, not Elze. The possessed woman reacted to his magic, taking no notice at all of Javi. Her eyes followed Oscar as he ran. A dozen arrows of that white fog formed around Elze before speeding after Oscar.

“Guess you’re so predictable because you’re not really alive,” commented Oscar. Keeping an eye on the arrows closing in, he made a huge leap. The vaporous projectiles all missed, crashing harmlessly into the ground. With no change in expression, Elze motioned to summon up new arrows to chase him.

That was when Tinasha called out, “Hey, Irityrdia. Shouldn’t I be the one you’re aiming for?”

Her voice cut through the dark, and Elze’s eyes swiveled to Tinasha. Clad all in black, the witch appeared not unlike a moon hanging in the night sky. “You were laid to rest here in this sacred place. I wonder how many sacrifices were needed to seal you away.”

The question carried across the cavern. It filled Oscar’s ears as he charged through the black. The closer he got, the more certain he was that it was Akashia sticking out of the ground. He picked up his beloved sword and was about to turn back when he noticed something scattered on the ground a short distance away.

“Are those…human bones?”

Scattered skeletons lay faded on the dark earth. Piles of dust had accumulated on them, and in their midst glittered freshly shattered crystal shards.

The witch’s voice boomed. “You were held by an ancient seal but awakened in response to my magic. That is why you surfaced and reached for me…but I rejected you. So you took that woman instead.”

Tinasha reached out a hand. Her eyes curved beautifully with her smile and then flashed with irrepressible rage. “So come to me, O god who has killed many and driven more to madness, who has left its claw marks on history. As a mage of this land, I—the Witch of the Azure Moon—shall face you.”

Blue flames sparked from her hands. A colossal magic bonfire powerful enough to burn anything to a crisp at a single touch sprouted to life.

The flame was so different from anything found on this plane of the hierarchy that Irityrdia froze for a moment.

Then it let out a terrifying roar. “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!”

The taut scream emerging from the woman’s mouth rang double and triple in everyone’s ears.

Elze kicked off the ground and attempted to spring an attack on Tinasha. Javi had gotten behind her, however, and held her back. As he restrained her with only his left arm, his face twisted at her inhuman might.

“Stay here… Do not go!”

Elze struggled in his arms like a broken doll. Javi gritted his teeth and dug in his heels firmly.

She fought and writhed, striking out at him with supernatural strength. There came the dull sound of bones breaking, and Javi doubled over, anguish writ clear on his face. He refused to let her go, however, and she let out a beastly howl.

They were entangled like that for a while, until Elze gave a jolt. “Ah…aaahhh…”

From her immobile body, a stream of white mist began to flow out, drawn toward the witch’s flame. The sentient white mist pressed in. As it came nearer, Tinasha flashed it a dauntless grin. “Come.”

The witch closed her eyes…and let out a little sigh.

Then…something winked out of sight.

“Tinasha!”

What she erased was the solid wall that was otherwise always in place around her magic. The first thing mages were taught was how to establish one’s individuality in the world, but she was a witch. Her distinctiveness wasn’t ordinary and neither was how she held her magic in check.

She had undone it entirely.

An almighty bundle of magical power was utterly defenseless.

The god turned into mist and surged toward it.

Tinasha extinguished her blue flame as the stream of vapor closed in but did nothing else.

The mist flowed right in between her red lips, entwining around her arms and legs and her waist. The phenomenon descended on her, trying to remove her magic from every pore of her body.

The sight was bizarrely beautiful and yet completely sickening.

Javi stared in shock, assaulted by nausea. In his arms, Elze fell limp.

“Dammit!” cried Oscar, running toward the witch. He realized what the piles of bones were. The mural had depicted smashed crystal balls and human remains.

Long ago, someone must have used the same method to seal away Irityrdia.

The process entailed using oneself as a vessel for a god—but humans were short-lived. So in order to prevent a god lacking a conscious will from going free after its human vessel died, a crystal ball swallowed internally acted as a medium to store the god. Double vessels kept Irityrdia tied to this holy ground. The old crystal balls—the god’s resting place—had shattered into pieces under the pull of the witch’s power.

Tinasha had noticed the mist was sealed using two vessels…and resolved to do the same thing others had in the past.

“Tinasha! Stop it!” Oscar insisted.

If she became a phenomenon that only existed to kill…

Oscar would be the one to bring an end to it. He didn’t plan on burdening anyone else with that responsibility.

Undoubtedly, that’s the sort of role the witch wanted him to take. Oscar had always chosen paths that prevented the possibility from becoming an inevitability, however.

A beautiful witch. The symbol of the strongest, most abominable power in the entire land.

A queen with no throne from an empire that fell long ago. Oscar knew if he let go of her even once, he’d never get her back. She’d glide away as easily as water. Ordinarily, the two should never have met. The slip in time that had allowed it would carry her off.

That’s precisely why Oscar knew he couldn’t give up.

“Tinasha!”

Oscar grabbed her shoulders. By now, there was no mist remaining. A wisp of white breath escaped her slightly parted lips.

She looked up at him with empty, dark eyes. In a thin, weak voice, she said, “Not…yet…”

“What’s not yet?” he demanded, but he was relieved to see she was still conscious. She wasn’t lost. He could still get her back. Glancing down at her stomach, Oscar said, “I’m going to make you throw up that crystal. It’ll be painful but bear with it.”

If he separated it from her, they should be able to take another tack. He also wouldn’t mind just going back to square one. The two of them could battle the likes of a god. He was convinced of that.

Eyes still vacant, Tinasha immediately responded, “But then it might get away…”

Her face was pallid as she looked down at herself. Slowly, she pressed a few fingers down on a spot in the center of her body, just under her rib cage. Then she slid her fingers lower. The black fabric of her formfitting costume opened up smoothly like a knife through butter. Skin as soft as virgin snow peeked out from under the gap.

Then her fingers stopped right over her navel. “It’s here. You can do it, right?”

“Listen…,” Oscar said in exasperation, having gleaned her meaning.

Irityrdia was inside the crystal ball she’d swallowed. There was only one way to keep it from ever truly escaping.

“Are you planning to make me disembowel you?”

Tinasha’s plan was to have Oscar cleave her through and smash the crystal with Akashia. By using her own body as a decoy, the god could be slain. That was the only way.

The graceful lines of Oscar’s face were all twisted in bitterness, which made the witch laugh. “Disembowel? You’re the one most capable of finishing the job with minimal injuries. I’ll heal right away, so I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m used to getting holes cut in my belly.”

“Can you be a little less ridiculous…?” Oscar muttered through gritted teeth.

It was true that Tinasha had experience with atrocious injuries, but that didn’t make the decision any easier for Oscar.

Yet here the witch was, asking him to do just that, entirely naturally. “Take up your sword and win.”

Tinasha gazed at Oscar’s sullen face and tilted her head. “Do you not think you can do it?”

“Don’t try to get me riled up, idiot. I’m just in shock at how shameless you are. Are you a cat?”

“I’m not a cat,” the witch insisted. Complete trust shone in her eyes.

No—it wasn’t even trust. Her gaze was saying, You can do it. To her, it was just a fact, not a matter of trust.

She was handing her body, her life, over to Oscar without a single doubt.

This woman was nothing but trouble, and that was precisely what he loved about her.

“Fine, I’ll do it. You do your best to dull the pain.”

Oscar wiped Akashia with a cloth.

This was the royal sword. It was meant for war. Its blade was not slender at all. But where he would be cutting bled out copiously even under the best of circumstances. He didn’t want to nick any other organs. Taking off his left glove, he touched her skin to make sure of his aim. He traced upward on her soft belly, and she shuddered. “Th-that tickles… Don’t touch it too much.”

“Don’t move around. Just try and bear it. If you don’t stay perfectly still, I’ll touch you more later,” he warned her, and she screwed her eyes shut.

Tinasha used magic to anesthetize the area, and while she could stanch bleeding and heal herself, it wouldn’t be possible to do so as long as Akashia was touching her. He needed to be as swift and sure as possible. There was little time left to wait.

Oscar looked down at the witch. Her breathing had grown very shallow. While Irityrdia was sealed in the crystal ball inside her, it was taking a heavy toll.

Oscar collected himself and grabbed Tinasha around the waist using his left hand.

“You’re my one and only,” he said, voicing a simple truth, the same way she’d done. “Concentrate. We’ll beat this without any close calls.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, grinning up at him just like a challenger in her tower. “Oscar, I’ve always, always wanted to beat a so-called god to a pulp.”

Her desire to fight was clear and honest.

The witch lifted her chin and closed her eyes. “Go on. Do it.”

Oscar nodded in acquiescence. Then he focused his strength into his grip on Akashia’s hilt—

And crushed the thing once called a god.