Unnamed Memory - Volume 3 - Chapter 6

6. Sandcastle

It was nearly impossible to see even one’s hand before one’s face in the sandstorm.

The man on horseback peered out from the cloth wrapped around his head at a raging whirlwind of white sand. He said to his companion riding next to him, “This is ridiculous… Is it always like this?”

The other man gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. “It shouldn’t be… There’s clearly something wrong.”

“Dammit. Do you think we can reach the fortress of Cados?”

“If we can’t, we’re goners for sure.”

Despite the life-or-death situation, the two exchanged casual remarks.

Suddenly, a girl’s voice cut in. “I’ll block the sandstorm for you.”

As she spoke, the sandstorm stopped swirling around them. Their vision cleared, revealing a vast desert of white sand.

“Come on, get going now!” she urged from behind.

“What a slave driver…,” muttered Doan despondently as he readjusted his grip on the reins. General Galen winced and followed after him.

Five days earlier, the two men had entered Yarda as travelers.

They’d departed from the fortress of Minnedart, crossed into Yarda, and followed the border toward Gandona. Along the way, they had passed numerous big cities and asked about the state of affairs in Yarda and where the missing princess had gone.

They’d learned that investigations were underway in all four corners and that the king of Yarda was bedridden. The prime minister, Zisis, was running the government. However, rumor had it that Prince Savas and his supporters opposed Zisis, and the court was divided.

On the other hand, the missing princess, Nephelli, did not belong to either side and had been trying to mediate.

“Both the prime minister and the prince are mobilizing troops. I guess they’re preparing for a civil war,” Galen stated calmly.

In contrast, Doan flashed a sardonic smile. “If it were only a civil war, they could do whatever they wanted. If they’re going to come at us, too, then we’ve got no choice but to get involved. Plus, Miss Tinasha is all bent out of shape.”

“I guess she’ll kill the enemy witch and settle all this one way or another,” surmised Galen.

“If she doesn’t, all we can do is fight them head-on,” Doan said dryly.

Yarda had lost to Farsas eleven years ago and had relinquished half its territory as a result. That portion of land stretched from the fortress of Minnedart to eastern Farsas. If things came to blows again, the whole country of Yarda might go under. Galen mused on the fate of their neighbor state.

Behind the two men on horseback rode a young redheaded girl of about ten years old.

Despite her young age, she had striking looks and a cold expression. The crimson-eyed girl wasn’t human. She was one of the mystical spirits belonging to Tinasha.

To avoid alerting Yarda to what they were doing, only two men had set out on this reconnaissance mission, but a spirit was assigned to them to guarantee their safety. Her name was Mila, and she often complained about anything particularly irksome to deal with. Despite that, she was helping.

Protected by the sandstorm-repelling barrier, the three made their way to the fortress of Cados in western Yarda. According to eyewitness testimony they’d obtained, the mage assigned to the missing princess had come that way.

Judging by the map, the fortress wasn’t too far off now, so long as the sandstorm didn’t slow them down. Worried for his horse as it marched through the hot sand, Doan looked up. Far in the distance, he could barely make out the vague shape of a huge stone building.

“We’re here…,” he murmured, turning to look back.

Galen gave him a wan smile, and Mila just stared back at him, unimpressed.

As the structure became clearer, Galen checked on his sword and started to look worried. “Will it be all right for us to drop in? Won’t they think we’re suspicious?”

“We can just say we’re lost travelers. It’s completely plausible that we would be. And if anything happens, Miss Tinasha will open up a transportation array and bring us back,” Doan explained.

“Don’t cause our queen any trouble. If that happens, just resign yourselves to dying a noble death,” said Mila.

“…………”

Is she really here to ensure our safety? Galen wondered doubtfully. However, he decided not to think about it too deeply.

The group of three brought their horses to the gate. Though it was a fortress, there weren’t any guards or watchmen. Galen shouted loud enough to be heard inside the garrison, “Is anyone there?”

His cry echoed off the high walls. Had it reached the inside? After a while, hurried footfalls came from the other side of the gate.

Tensing, Doan and Galen watched as the entrance opened. The soldiers inside cried out in amazement at the sight of three new faces. “How did you get here?!” one exclaimed.

“What?” they responded, exchanging glances.

Doan, Galen, and Mila had been met not with vigilance and hostility, but rather with pure shock.

After a simple pat-down, the three travelers were granted entry.

Galen wore his sword, but that was deemed appropriate for a wanderer’s self-defense.

Unfortunately, Mila’s mood took a sharp nosedive over her being touched by humans. The two men walking ahead of her prayed they wouldn’t be casualties of her temper.

One man led the trio to a room where Yardan general Iosef, mage Gait, and military officer Neona were waiting.

Iosef was a robust fellow in his midthirties with dark skin adorned by crisscrossing old scars.

Gait was a young man with a sharp gaze and possibly the one who acted as the princess’s bodyguard.

Lastly, there was Neona. The young woman had long blond hair—a rarity in Yarda—that was braided up in a bun. She would probably be lovely if she smiled, but at the moment, she was giving the new guests a hard stare.

With a good-natured grin, Iosef ushered them to sit down. Once all were seated, he said, “Well now, you really are lucky. We had a sudden sandstorm come on about a week ago. We’ve been stuck here. It’s quite the predicament.”

Galen spoke up as the group’s representative. “Are these storms common?”

“Not at all. It might be hard to believe, but while these parts were never all that hospitable, it only really became a desert last week.”

Galen’s and Doan’s jaws dropped. They were both in their twenties and hadn’t taken part in the war eleven years ago. What they knew of Yarda came from books and simple maps; they had no idea this had initially been anything but what it was now.

Iosef gave a derisive laugh. “So you see, though you came here seeking refuge, we’re essentially stuck in lockdown.”

Doan raised his hand at that. “Can mages not teleport out?”

The mage Gait snorted. “This wasteland…desert…has a barrier up around it. We can’t do any direct teleportation. In case you’re wondering, we weren’t the ones to put that in place. Someone’s keeping us locked up here.”

“Oh…,” sighed Doan, restraining the urge to tear out his hair.

He had felt a little prickle when they’d entered the desert, but he would never have thought there was a barrier up around the entire thing. He glanced back to see Mila sitting there with her legs crossed, looking like this wasn’t her problem at all. She must have known but hadn’t said anything. Perhaps because she was a demon, she didn’t care about anyone but her.

So long as the trio was tasked with this mission, they couldn’t just give up.

Doan changed his mindset and started to probe carefully into what had happened to understand the circumstances better. “So you think someone deliberately sealed this place off?”

“Seems that way,” Gait admitted resentfully.

Doan pressed further. “We’ve actually come from Gandona… Is it true that the princess of Yarda went missing?”

“……”

The three Yardans present blanched.

Yarda had given no official announcement regarding Princess Nephelli’s disappearance.

For all most citizens of Yarda knew, she was still in the castle. The only ones who knew the truth were a few people in Gandona and those who got their information from there.

The Yardans exchanged grim looks. Suddenly, Iosef let out a sigh. “Who knows…? It’s hard to say. I’ve also heard the rumors that Her Highness isn’t in the castle. Things have been bizarre lately, and I don’t have too good an idea of what’s going on, either… Ah, I shouldn’t have said that to you. Sorry.”

Iosef was going to be much more challenging to deal with than they’d thought.

Pasting on a meek expression, Doan nodded.

Gait’s presence suggested that the Yardans in the fortress knew where the princess was. Yet Iosef blended some truths and acted friendly to cover it up.

Doan shot a glance at Galen. He nodded in reply.

Their goal wasn’t just to investigate. If possible, they wanted to take the initiative and help resolve Yarda’s troubles—that was their real purpose here. Doan had been granted that power.

He sat up straight. Gazing evenly at Iosef, then at Gait, he asked, “Do you know who has locked you up here?”

They didn’t answer, just sat there silently and sullenly. That was answer enough. It was apparent that they did know, but refused to say.

Mila stared at them with condescension. Doan got to his feet and walked over to stand before the three Yardans. He made his voice as calm and even as possible. “If you know who it is, and you want to defeat them, we will help you. Our king has asked as much of us.”

The last sentence made Iosef look up. He gazed at Doan with shock in his eyes. “Where did you…?”

“We have come here on behalf of the king of Farsas, Oscar Lyeth Increatos Loz Farsas. Right now, your country is at a crossroads. I urge you to choose wisely.”

At those words, Neona finally lifted her lovely face after looking down this entire time.

According to Iosef and Gait, Princess Nephelli had sensed that a strange woman—a lover of her older brother, Savas—was interfering behind the scenes in the court rupture. Initially, when the king fell ill and Prime Minister Zisis took over, Savas had been against it. Unfortunately, he lacked the drive and power to oppose the prime minister outright.

That was when a beautiful woman appeared and began to offer advice to Savas.

Her suggestions were spot on, and Savas quickly garnered enough support to oppose Zisis. During that time, Nephelli felt concerned but supported her brother. However, one day Savas said, “Once I reclaim our nation, we’ll take back the land we lost to Farsas.” This shocked her; her brother had changed so much he was like an entirely different person.

Yet Yarda was already at the height of an internal rift. The country was falling apart. If it dared to challenge Farsas after only just managing to heal itself, Yarda would be wiped off the map forever.

Desperately, Nephelli tried to dissuade her elder sibling. However, not only did Savas brush her aside, but he also tried to imprison her. The big brother who was always so sweet to her no longer existed.

Driven into a corner, Nephelli announced that she would be attending the Founding Day ball in Gandona and left the castle, intending to flee. She planned to leave Yarda, then plead for help in another country where she had relatives.

Unfortunately, just before she reached the border, her pursuers caught up with her. Upon learning of the ambush, Nephelli’s party changed course and fled to the fortress of Cados, where they quickly found themselves trapped.

“The enchantress in the castle is taking every opportunity to fill Prince Savas’s mind with doomed ambitions. ‘Reclaim your country, take on the world.’ Some people in Zisis’s faction have been killed, and it’s only a matter of time before he marshals troops. It’s embarrassing, but civil war looks to be unavoidable the way things are going,” confessed Iosef, his voice laden with anguish. Though it wasn’t their country, Galen and Doan looked sympathetic.

This had been caused by a witch whose favorite pastime was raising and destroying countries. Whether Savas won or lost, she’d still have had her fun. In the past, she’d undoubtedly incited the triumphs and collapses of other countries, though always making sure that she herself never made an appearance in the history books.

“So then, where is the princess now?” Doan inquired.

“Well… In all the confusion as we headed to the fortress, I got separated from the other guards. I still don’t know where she is. Because of the sandstorm, we can’t go out and search for her…”

“What…?” said the two men of Farsas, astonished.

In the end, the princess really was missing.

Even if they could sway the people in the fortress to their side, the party from Farsas doubted they could successfully intervene in Yarda’s affairs without the princess. From where Farsas stood, this was another country’s problem, and they couldn’t take any action unless they won over someone in Yarda’s royal family.

Doan hesitated, unsure of himself. Should they search for the princess or abandon the stronghold and pursue another lead? Keeping a cool head, Doan thought for a while about which method would be the best one.

Just then, Neona spoke up for the first time. “Even if Her Highness isn’t here, the fact that this fortress is locked up means that her pursuers think she is.”

“Are you telling us to make use of that?” questioned Doan.

“We’ll go out and search for her once the storm dies down, so until then, we should pretend that she’s sick and laid up in bed. This should deter those after her, at least for a time.”

“…I see.”

This was a pretty shrewd woman to take advantage of the princess’s absence. Doan was impressed, finding the plan not bad at all. He nodded and said, “Then let’s go with that.”

Neona looked relieved.

Now that they understood things a little better and had the support of the fortress’s leaders, Doan sucked in another deep breath. “Now, how are we going to get this information back to Farsas with the teleport block in place?”

“Don’t tell me we have to ride home through the desert…,” Galen groaned, looking discouraged at the thought.

“I don’t want to. It’d be a pain,” Mila stated, voice dripping with scorn.

“What other choice is there?” Doan wondered.

“Can’t we just send the message directly? Lady Tinasha, did you hear that?”

“I did,” answered a familiar voice into the room. Doan and Galen looked surprised; so did the three Yardans, who did not recognize the voice.

The space next to Mila began to warp. A beautiful black-haired woman appeared there out of thin air. As she ran her fingers through her hair, she bowed to the three people before her. “I watched and listened through Mila’s eyes and ears. I’m sorry to seem like I was eavesdropping.”

“Who are you…?”

“That’s not important. I’ve made the king aware of everything. In about an hour, he’ll reach a stopping place in his work and then finalize the details. Doan, Galen, do you want to head back for now? You’ve done well,” she said, issuing instructions briskly. The three Yardans were speechless.

Doan and Galen felt comforted to have the witch intervene. Mila floated into the air and happily threw her arms around her queen’s neck. “Lady Tinasha, was I useful?”

“You truly were. Thank you, Mila,” answered Tinasha.

“Call on me anytime! I’ll do a much better job than Nil!” the little girl declared.

“Yes, yes,” replied Tinasha with a little smile. Mila disappeared with an enthusiastic wave good-bye.

Doan muttered wearily, “She acts completely different toward us…”

Tinasha heard him and burst out laughing.

One hour later, Oscar teleported into the fortress as promised with the witch and two of his advisers in tow.

As before, it was Iosef, Gait, and Neona who welcomed them.

After Iosef greeted them, Oscar got right to the point and stated, “The first thing I’d like to say is that we don’t plan to publicize the fact that Farsas intervened here. We’d like you to abide by that as well.”

“Understood.”

“And unfortunately, while the princess may be missing, we can’t guarantee that we can keep her safe. We’re only going to be excising the woman filling the prince’s head with nonsense.”

“That would be enough,” Iosef responded immediately, bowing his head. Never had he expected help to come from Farsas. Even if the type of support it offered was minimal, that was more than welcome if it led to a breakthrough in the current predicament.

However, there was one thing he was still curious about.

Why were they helping now? If Oscar just stood by and watched the civil war unfold, he could nab Yarda once the dust settled.

When Iosef inquired about that in a roundabout manner, a dauntless smile flickered across the handsome face of the king of Farsas. “Because she provoked us first. And…if we’re up against a witch, it seems only natural that I be the one to handle it, right?”

The raven-haired woman next to the king smiled, her eyes narrowing into crescents.

That was when the Cados trio realized that the one driving everyone into this situation was one of the five witches in the world.

Astonished, Neona murmured, “Wh-why would a witch…”

“Who knows? As her name would imply, the Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned appears even when none seek her out. It’s pointless to think about the reason. The answer is plain bad luck,” replied the beautiful woman.

While the trio of Yardans was still mute with shock, the king of Farsas said, “Now then, how should we lure Leonora out…?”

He placed a hand to his chin and looked around the room. From left to right, Neona, Gait, Iosef, Als, Kumu, and Tinasha all wore different expressions. As he examined their faces, something occurred to him. “Why doesn’t Leonora kill Princess Nephelli?”

With a witch’s power, it seemed like it would be simpler to destroy the whole fortress than to maintain a sandstorm. There had to be a reason she was going to such trouble.

It was Gait who spoke up. “When Princess Nephelli departed the castle, she received the royal ring from His Majesty. It’s also a key that unlocks the temple where the coronation is held.”

“So that means Savas can’t become the next ruler unless he has that ring?” Oscar asked.

“That’s right,” responded Gait.

Oscar puzzled over that. With the princess bound by such circumstances, that meant her disappearance ill befit Leonora’s designs. It was better to pretend that the princess was safe than let word get out and have things escalate unpredictably.

“Then we just need to make it look like we’re interfering in the capture of the princess. So long as the prince and the prime minister are in a standoff, neither side can risk sending troops, so Leonora will have to come herself,” concluded Oscar.

“Oh, I’m planning to make extra sure that she does. She has a very short temper. It’ll almost be too easy,” Tinasha remarked blithely, as if she herself weren’t just as short tempered.

Oscar gave a light pat to the witch’s head. “How long will it take to get ready?”

“Once I undo the sandstorm, Leonora will be alerted to our meddling, so before I do, I’m going to cast a spell to prevent any demon summoning in this entire region… I have a lot to do, and it’ll take about two full days. On the third, I’ll end the sandstorm and draw her out. Since she’s gone to the trouble of making this place so inaccessible, I believe this is as suitable a place as any to kill her,” Tinasha declared calmly, appearing both lovely and cruel.

There were only five witches in all the land. Yet she held not the slightest hesitation about slaying one of her own. Her smile was the very picture of composure, overpowering the others into silence.

Only Oscar nodded readily. “Got it. I don’t want another castle to get attacked. What do you need?”

“I’ll borrow some people and get to work. On the night of the second day, I’ll come to find you. Just go about your usual work,” Tinasha instructed.

Oscar nodded, then pinched her ear with a frown. “Don’t go rogue on me, understand?”

“What are you talking about?” Tinasha asked, averting her eyes.

Oscar tugged on her ear harder. “If you do something and don’t tell me about it, I’m going to hang you upside down.”

“…………”

Tinasha squeezed her eyes tight unhappily, then stuck her tongue out once he wasn’t looking.

Watching the display, Als and Kumu felt headaches coming on.

After Oscar returned to Farsas, Tinasha called on four mystical spirits and left to go check on the spell in the desert. Als had Iosef show him around the fortress so he could review how it was laid out. Kumu stood atop the fortress ramparts and used a spirit to communicate with Tinasha.

Neona was in a daze as the preparations got underway. She stared outside from a corridor in the fortress. Her eyes followed the raging, perpetual whirling sand that kept them trapped.

Just like a storm, she mused, thinking about the people from Farsas who had descended so suddenly upon the garrison.

In particular, Neona found herself quite taken with the brashly confident king. She’d heard tales of him for a long time now—stories of the handsome royal whose swordsmanship was second to none. Many people made their high regard for him known, even beyond Farsas’s borders.

Now, Neona understood that his charm was far more than skin deep. It was the strength of his soul and how radiant it was. His eyes were arresting, compelling. It was an unwavering gaze that tempted Neona to submit.

Never had she expected to meet him, yet now she had. She wondered if this was what Prince Savas felt like, ensnared by the witch?

They had met only once and hadn’t exchanged any words; Neona knew this was ridiculous. However, she quickly realized that as she gazed out at the sandstorm, she was chasing her few memories of him.

“Leonora… Where are you?”

“I’m here,” replied a languid woman’s voice.

The sun was still high, but the curtains were drawn in the room, and it was dark inside.

Leonora sat up in bed. Her honey-colored hair cascaded down her back in loose waves. Her eyes were as green as a forest canopy that blotted out all light. With her elegant nose and rosy lips, she appeared as one would picture a holy saint.

She was as gorgeous as a flower in full bloom, brushing back her long hair. A man peeked in from a crack in the door. “Were you asleep? I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. What’s going on?” she inquired, smiling wide at him.

The expression was very reassuring to the young man, who entered and sat next to her on the bed. “Zisis is gathering up the generals he has on his side. I think he may finally be about to marshal troops.”

“I see… That’s nothing to fret over. You’re the rightful heir to the throne. Simply judge him guilty of treason.”

“But I’m not the king. If Nephelli isn’t here…”

“It’s fine. Things will go our way soon enough. Trust me, Savas,” the witch cooed, laying one ivory hand along the man’s cheek.

He nodded hazily, like he was in a dream. After Leonora gave him a set of instructions, he departed to ensure that his troops would be ready to go at any time.

Once he had slipped out the door, Leonora sniggered. “What a weakling…”

Despite being the crown prince, he couldn’t decide on anything himself. If not for Leonora, Yarda would have already fallen into Zisis’s hands.

But she didn’t mind. She’d had more than enough of strong and arrogant men. Being toyed with was no fun. The witch much preferred to be the one doing the toying. All the people in the world were nothing more than her adorable pawns to play with as she pleased.

Leonora got out of bed and let out a little yawn. Then she heard one of her followers say, “Lady Leonora, the demons you sent after Lord Travis were all killed.”

“I see. Forget about that for now.”

“The Witch of the Azure Moon isn’t in Farsas Castle.”

“Oh?”

Now, that was unusual. Had something happened for her to leave her contract holder behind even though they knew they had enemies?

Leonora could not believe that Tinasha had chosen a man like that.

Personally, Leonora found the idea of a partner of equal level detestable. Particularly if that person bore Akashia. Wasn’t it the height of absurdity for Tinasha to be with a human who could kill her?

Nonetheless, Tinasha was an ex-royal herself. Maybe it had gotten hard for her to live alone. Leonora remembered the scrawny girl she’d once known, and she snorted.

Such an impertinent woman. Tinasha was a witch of a completely different sort from Leonora. She drew people to her with a different light.

That luminance could stand to dim a bit. Leonora didn’t hate Tinasha. She just didn’t care for her.

Besides, how funny would it be if Tinasha died—or if she lost the love of her life? Leonora was growing excited over the mere idea. It would be a new game.

An enchanting smile curving across her lips, the witch gave her followers a new command.

Once Oscar returned to the castle, he tried to get as far ahead on his work as he could.

Because Farsas’s involvement was a secret, he had to select whom he would bring with him carefully. Tinasha planned to deploy all of her mystical spirits, but they would be up against a witch. When facing someone who’d slaughtered thousands during the Dark Age, Farsas would need to be just as thoroughly prepared.

The king’s witch hadn’t wanted him involved, but no matter where this all had started, it was Oscar who had been targeted and had nearly perished. There were casualties from the attack on Farsas, too, so he intended to make sure the same thing would never happen again by taking action to bring down Leonora.

“Still, she sure is fierce about this…”

Tinasha hadn’t wanted to provoke the other witch who’d threatened Oscar, the Witch of Silence who’d cursed him. But she’d jumped straight to plotting murder when it was Leonora. Maybe it was because Oscar had suffered direct harm; even so, her reaction was bloodthirsty. But based on how Tinasha spoke of her, perhaps she just plain didn’t like Leonora.

As Oscar pondered that, he headed for his chambers along with some guard soldiers. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a beautiful raven-haired woman perched on the edge of a window in the hallway. The soldiers on either side of him headed for her and bowed.

“Tinasha, what is it?” he asked.

“I wanted to see you… Can I not?” she answered.

“I don’t mind, but are things okay over there?”

“Everything’s fine,” the witch replied with a grin, jumping down from the window. She ran up to Oscar, and he stroked her hair before dismissing the guards.

Once they were in his room, the witch reached out both arms and hugged him tightly. He smiled and lifted her up, then set her down on the wide bed. He sat next to her as she looked up at him with wide, fawning eyes.

As Oscar gazed at her, he grabbed her slender wrist. At the same time, there was a metallic clinking sound. She turned her head to see what was on her wrist, but Oscar caught hold of her chin.

In a low voice, he said, “I kept this around in case I needed to punish her. Seems like it came in handy in a different way.”

“…Oscar?” Tinasha questioned.

“Don’t call me that. I don’t know who you are, but do you really think I can’t tell the difference between the woman I love and an impostor?”

“……”

A tremble of fear ran through the faker. Oscar leveled a cold glare at her.

She tried to cast a spell to escape but realized she couldn’t focus on her magic. Oscar was holding her head in place, so she couldn’t see it, but the item locked on her wrist had to be a sealing ornament made of the same material as Akashia.

“I’m uncomfortable with that disguise, so first I’ll ask you to remove it,” Oscar stated with a voice that brooked no argument.

The woman gulped nervously. The air was fraught with such tension that he was likely to snap her neck if she refused. She focused and drew on power that wasn’t magic. Her black hair changed to a glossy green, and her dark eyes took on that same verdant shade. The vibrant hue immediately made it plain that this was no ordinary human.

Oscar scowled. “So you’re the woman who summoned the demons. Tinasha did mention you looked half-spirit.”

Only her lips curled up in a smirk. When Oscar saw the derision there, he brought the hand that was on her chin to her throat. “Tell me your name.”

“…Aderayya.”

“Why are you here?”

“My master ordered me to.”

“Leonora, huh? I don’t think much of her taste,” Oscar spat.

In a bid to maintain some of her pride, Aderayya kept silent and only smiled at him. Death felt imminent, and her body had gone cold. It wasn’t entirely because her magic was sealed. After facing him up close, she knew how powerful this man was. Her master had instructed her: “Kill him with an internal poison if possible.” But even if he hadn’t possessed Tinasha’s protective barrier, she didn’t think she could overpower him at close range.

Oscar spent a while staring down at the pale-faced creature beneath him before he finally smirked. “Are you important to Leonora?”

She knew what he meant and gasped out, “I-I’m like trash to her.”

“Oh yeah? Well, whatever,” he said casually, strengthening his hold on her neck. He pressed down on her carotid, and her eyes bulged.

Several seconds later, Oscar went out into the corridor to find a mage, dragging the woman’s unconscious body behind him.

Tinasha worked late into the night to get halfway through the spell, then paused her work there and spent the night in the fortress. While she was known to be the strongest witch, she didn’t intend to overestimate her own abilities. She wanted to be scrupulous in her preparations. However, even that wouldn’t be enough when facing a fellow witch. There was also the fact that out of all five of the witches, Leonora was the second oldest, after Lucrezia. Purely as a mage, her wealth of experience was different.

“Well, even so, I’m going to win,” murmured Tinasha placidly as she gazed out from the corridor windows at the morning sun shining down on the desert.

A spell banning any demon summoning in the entire region was an absolute necessity when facing Leonora. If it collapsed, everything would fall apart. That would only lead to a war of attrition as Leonora summoned an inexhaustible supply of demons.

That was why it was so convenient to have this desert. Yet she still felt a twinge of uncertainty.

“What is it that’s got me anxious?”

Tinasha knew that the region had initially been a barren wilderness even before the recent transformation into a desert. For ages, it was only stark earth with no vegetation, just like Old Tuldarr. That was probably because a small amount of magic had accumulated here. While it was nothing compared to the amount in the now-diverted magical lakes, there were several power spots like this all over. Tinasha wondered if Leonora had buried this place in the sand so quickly so she could draw on that magic undisturbed.

Even that didn’t seem to explain the woman’s niggling discomfort.

“I do hope we’re not in proximity to another god or something…”

The last one had been an incredible nuisance, but she didn’t think there were too many beings like that lying around.

The witch would have liked to get to the bottom of this odd sense of doubt had time permitted, but her first priority was ensuring Leonora didn’t get wise.

Tinasha tamped down her malaise for now and kicked off from the hallway to leap into the air.

After working all morning, she finally finished and called over Als and Meredina, who had arrived that afternoon. Last night, she’d arranged a transportation array linking the fortress and Farsas Castle. But to be absolutely safe, its use was limited to citizens of Farsas.

On a desk, Tinasha laid out the twenty or so swords she’d brought from her tower and pointed to them. “Take whichever sword you like. They’re not as strong as Akashia, but they’re all first-rate blades.”

Meredina’s jaw dropped, and she gaped at the witch. “What? I can really take one?”

“Of course.”

“These are…magic swords, right?”

“You’ll probably be fighting demons, so yes. I picked out ones that are excellent at killing such things.”

Gingerly, Als picked up the nearest blade. A dragon decorated the hilt; he unsheathed the weapon, and it glinted blue.

“Wow,” he commented, eyes sparkling as he inspected one sword after another until finding the perfect ones for himself and Meredina. With their chosen weapons in hand, they faced the witch with openly emotional gazes.

“Thank you very much!” they said in unison.

“It’s partially due to me that you’re even in this fight, so there’s no need for gratitude,” Tinasha dismissed with a self-deprecating smile. With a wave of her hand, the unselected blades vanished. She let down her hair and checked the time. “All right, I’m going to return to the castle for a bit.”

“Are you going to go call over His Majesty already?”

“No. I’m going to get permission to make the first move…,” she replied with a mischievous grin before she transported herself away.

She teleported to the study first, but no one was there. Cocking her head in puzzlement, she headed out into the hallway. She looked to her right and saw Lazar passing right by.

Tinasha gave him a light wave. “Um, do you know where Oscar is?”

“He’s in the third lecture hall. He caught an enemy mage last night.”

“Huh? What happened?” Tinasha inquired, taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. She thanked Lazar before winking out of sight.

Oscar, Kav, and Renart were looking over a green-haired woman bound to a chair.

No sooner did Tinasha appear in the room than her eyes went wide. She knew this prisoner.

Oscar turned back to her. “Oh, you’ve come at a good time.”

“What in the world happened?” the witch asked.

“She snuck in very brazenly, so I captured her,” he answered.

Tinasha noticed that the woman had Sekta on her wrist. A wave of repulsive memories flashed through her mind, and she felt a little sympathetic. Dismissing the unpleasant recollection, the witch focused on the matter at hand.

“She’s the one who’s come at a good time. This is a lucky break—it saves me the trouble of going to catch her,” stated Tinasha.

“Oh yeah? We’re having trouble dealing with her. She won’t talk, so I was thinking of throwing her in a well,” retorted Oscar dryly.

“Then you’d ruin a perfectly good well,” Tinasha shot back, making a face. She came to stand in front of the woman, bending down to look her in the eye. The woman smirked at her. It may have been just a bold front, but her guts impressed the witch. “What’s her name?”

“Aderayya, apparently,” Oscar replied.

“That’s a nice name. Now, Aderayya, I’d like you to tell me in detail about the layout of Yarda Castle and the current state of affairs there,” Tinasha requested with all the imposing majesty of a queen.

Aderayya gave a cynical sneer. “Didn’t you hear them? I’m not giving anything up.”

“I think you will,” Tinasha said, and she held out a hand. A tiny bottle of transparent liquid appeared in her palm. She grabbed it and gave it a little shake to check the contents.

“Here we go,” the witch muttered. One glance at Aderayya made the white flesh of her arm split open in a cut. Red blood welled up and began to ooze out. Tinasha opened the bottle and let little beads of the liquid within dribble out onto the wound as she hummed an incantation. From the cut, the droplets entered Aderayya’s body. Once Tinasha had made sure of that, she sealed the wound.

Aderayya’s face was frozen with nervous tension, but she still looked up haughtily and declared, “Potions won’t work on me.”

“They don’t work on me, either, but there are exceptions. This is a truth serum concocted by Lucrezia, the Witch of the Forbidden Forest,” the witch revealed, which made the blood drain from Aderayya’s face. Naturally, one of Leonora’s servants knew the name of the woman who was second to none when it came to potions.

Oscar examined the little bottle, which was still over half-full. “Why do you have something like that?”

“Lucrezia gave it to me and told me to use it on you if you cheat,” Tinasha answered.

“…I’m not going to,” he said.

“Tell Lucrezia that,” she quipped back primly.

Oscar’s expression soured, and he fell silent. Renart stifled a smile behind him.

Kav looked interested in Lucrezia’s concoction, murmuring, “I could find a use for a bit of that.”

About thirty minutes later, Tinasha had extracted just about all the information they needed on Yarda from Aderayya.

Arms crossed, Tinasha made up her mind about what to do next and looked to Oscar. “I’ll be going to Yarda for a bit now.”

“Did I hear you wrong?” asked Oscar.

“Ow! Ow!” cried Tinasha, fighting back as the king pressed his fists against her temples.

After a moment, Oscar released her from his vise and shot a chilly glance at her. “Did you not understand what I said to you?”

“I did. But Yarda is on the brink of civil war. Even if I kill Leonora, we may not be able to stop the conflict immediately—or it may start before I can get her out of the picture. That’s why I need to delay things a little,” Tinasha explained.

“There’s no need for you to go that far. It’s too much meddling,” Oscar chided, standing firm.

“Can’t you just let me do this? It’ll be fine. Plus, it would be prudent to thin the numbers of Leonora’s servants in advance,” Tinasha asserted.

“That sounds like something that would make her aware of your involvement.”

“I can take them out one by one without leaving a trace. That’s how different our power levels are. She broke into the castle. I’m merely repaying the favor,” Tinasha wheedled.

“Listen…,” Oscar began, exasperated.

“I won’t speak to Leonora. I’m just going to stir things up a bit,” she insisted.

A brief silence fell.

Oscar had a strange sense of déjà vu; this all felt a lot like the time Tinasha went to slay the demonic beast. Back then, he had concerns, but in the end, he had watched her go.

Now he was king, and he bit back a sigh. “…You’ll come right back?”

“I’ll return in two hours, and then I’ll come to get you. Can I go?” Tinasha requested again, looking up at Oscar with her dark eyes.

He stared into them for a while before sighing and patting her head. “Go.”

When the witch heard that, she gave a soft smile. Her trust in him was evident on her face, reflecting his own confidence in her.

The witch conjured a long-distance transportation array. Turning to her attendant, she said, “Renart, you come, too. We’ve got a lot to do.”

“Yes, my lady,” replied Renart, and the two mages disappeared into the transportation spell together.

The king turned back to face Aderayya.

She was still drugged; her green eyes were clouded over and cast down at the floor, unmoving. After a moment of contemplation, Oscar asked her, “Why does Leonora dislike Tinasha?”

The inquiry had been born of pure curiosity. A moment later, Aderayya murmured feebly, “Because of Gaweid’s betrayal.”

Oscar ruminated on that.

“We’ll take the king into custody tonight,” declared Zisis, and his three generals nodded.

The longer a civil war persisted, the more Yarda would suffer. He needed to settle this as soon as possible. He would respect the king’s authority, but only by making him a figurehead.

For better or worse, Savas didn’t have any aptitude for running a country. In addition, it was obvious what would happen now that he was under the thumb of that serpent-tongued Leonora. Zisis needed to do whatever he could to prevent Savas from inheriting the throne.

Savas needed Nephelli to be crowned, and she was currently missing. Zisis’s plan was to secure the king, immobilize Savas, and then search for the princess.

The prime minister surveyed his generals. “Prince Savas’s private army is expected to march soon. Take them down.”

“Yes, sir.”

“…Actually, I was hoping you might delay that,” remarked an unfamiliar man. Whoever had spoken wasn’t in the room, and all present jumped to their feet.

The one who had interrupted was standing in the doorway. His appearance suggested that he was a mage—a rather brazen one.

It was unacceptable that some unknown interloper could infiltrate this meeting of utmost secrecy to discuss overthrowing the country.

The three generals exchanged glances—then immediately drew their swords and charged at the man. Unconcerned, he wove up a spell with a brief incantation.

Just as their swords rose to cut him down, a transportation portal opened up right before them.

The array gave a sizable shudder before swallowing up the three generals.

Astonished at the sudden disappearance of his comrades, Zisis cried, “Wh-what do you think you’re doing? What happened?”

“I just tossed them somewhere suitably far away, as my queen desired,” Renart responded, putting out a hand. In response, the portal changed shape, its tip edging closer to Zisis. Though the prime minister tried to escape, he too found himself drawn into the spell.

A gray stone corridor.

It seemed like it would go on forever and looked identical to hallways found in any castle.

Maria, dressed as a lady-in-waiting, walked down this unexceptional corridor carrying a pitcher of water for the king.

About half a year earlier, she had come to this country on the orders of her master, Leonora.

At one time, Maria had been a court mage of Cezar, but she grew bored with her trouble-free life and quit her job to become a wanderer. During her travels, she came into contact with Leonora, one of only five witches in all the land. She was calamity in human form. Strong, beautiful, proud…and pandering to no one.

The witch was cruel, yet sensitive. Maria was drawn to her immediately. She felt that Leonora could overthrow everything. Thus she begged the witch to take her along.

And Leonora obliged, giving Maria the life she’d hoped for.

It was Maria’s first time watching a country crumble away before her eyes. She smiled as she watched the castle slowly lose its luster. She envisioned a future when it would all be covered in flames and blood—

Suddenly, a black shadow appeared at the end of the hallway, abruptly curtailing the woman’s musings. “What…?”

As she blinked, wondering if her mind had played tricks on her, the shadow slithered closer.

Eyes formed from shards of night.

A woman so lovely she could be an embodiment of beauty was staring at Maria from very close. She had arrived out of thin air, and her long onyx locks and black mage’s attire gave off a sense of otherworldliness.

Unlike her master, who mesmerized everything only to burn it away, this woman’s ebon eyes drew all around her into an infinite abyss.

The woman in black didn’t smile as she reached out a hand to Maria. “Do you have any last words?”

Maria didn’t realize these were her final moments. All she could comprehend was that the creature before her was an opponent.

Reflexively, she cast an attack spell. She lifted her right arm high to lob it at the woman—

“Ah!”

Yet to her surprise, the limb had already been severed at the elbow. The flesh was charred.

As the woman brandished a burning sword, she warned Maria, “If you don’t have any, you’ll leave nothing behind.”

However, by the time she heard the statement, her vision had gone black. Maria vanished from the world without so much as a drop of blood left behind.

Having neatly eliminated all her targets, Tinasha glanced at the water pitcher she was now holding and teleported away again.

Not many people in the castle noticed the change.

If they did, they mistook it for the type of transition they had been expecting. The court of Yarda had been touch and go for so long that a considerable number of people just thought the time for the anticipated upset had arrived.

Only those of the inner circle recognized the strangeness for what it was. The crown prince Savas was one such person. He stalked down the castle hallways, his irritation on full display. “What in the world is going on…? Where did everyone go?”

For quite a while now, he’d been trying to assemble his generals and mages so he could instruct them on how best to strike out at Zisis. To his anger, however, none answered his summons, no matter how long he waited. He’d given up and gone to find them himself but couldn’t locate a single one.

Savas hadn’t the faintest notion of what his followers were doing during such a crucial time. In the end, he couldn’t rely on anyone but Leonora—others were useless.

Savas reached the office of the royal chief mage—one of his allies—and threw the door open. The chamber’s occupant turned around. “Come in.”

When Savas got a proper look at the one who had spoken, he briefly lost the power of speech.

In the royal chief mage’s stead stood a devastatingly beautiful woman.

The black-haired vixen smiled and pointed behind Savas. “Close the door.”

“Uh, all right…,” he agreed, rushing to obey. Entirely overpowered, he turned back to face her. “Who are you?”

“Your sister asked me to come,” she responded.

“Wha…? Do you know where Nephelli is?!”

“I do. But I’m not going to tell you, Your Highness,” she said.

“I’m her brother!” he protested.

“You were up until a little while ago, yes,” she shot back scathingly, and Savas reddened. He wanted to defend himself with an excuse but used his minuscule self-respect to hold it back.

The woman sat on the desk and folded her legs. The skin peeking out from under the hem was alarmingly white.

Her dark eyes flashed up at him. “Do you want the throne? Or even greater power?”

“The throne! The rights I deserve! If Zisis hadn’t gone and made all this trouble…”

“You could have built a better nation?” she asked.

“Of course! I’m royalty,” he insisted.

“Have you done the work for that?” inquired the woman, gazing at him coldly. This unknown beauty’s words made his head feel hot. Before Savas could say anything, she continued in a sharp tone. “The nation is not an instrument of the king’s authority. Both king and country are institutions made by the people to protect the people. Those who do not understand that are not fit or qualified to run a country.”

“I know that!” Savas cried.

“I hope you do,” she replied, gazing at him so steadily that her jet-black eyes threatened to peer into his soul. An uncomfortable jolt ran through his body.

Her eyes held a strange power. She was terrifying.

Savas feared that if he looked upon her for too long, he’d reveal something he ought not to.

Unfortunately, she wouldn’t let him look away. Her cold eyes bored into his as she overwhelmed him with pressure. “Maybe you should take a better look around. The people you’re trying to kill and the ones trying to kill you are all your citizens. If you don’t protect them, who will? Your woman only sees them as pawns.”

“Leonora’s done nothing wrong!” he protested.

“I didn’t say she has. All I’m saying is that your positions are different. She’ll use every trick in the book. Whom do you think you’re going to kill by leaving what you should decide and what you should do up to someone else?” the woman asked, hitting him with a direct question that left Savas speechless.

The prince knew that he’d never decided a thing on his own and that a war for the crown was about to break out. All the tragedy stemmed from Savas’s own weakness.

“You think you’re so clever… What do you know?” he muttered.

“Certainly nothing about you. But you’re not the only one who owes a debt to their country,” the woman answered smoothly. It sounded as if she was obligated to a nation of her own or was very close to someone who was.

Feeling frustrated, Savas curled his hands into fists. The beauty stared at him, her gaze unreadable. If he met those eyes, he’d be drawn into the abyss. It was dizzying, like peering into a full-length mirror in a room at night.

One of Savas’s hands reached for the sword at his hip. “…Leave now, unless you wish me to cut you down.”

“I certainly don’t. I’d get quite an earful if I killed you,” the woman replied.

“What?” the prince said dumbly, unable to immediately comprehend what she meant. Her gaze remained even.

Anger and threats didn’t get through to her; nothing did. It was like Savas was suddenly standing trial.

The aura wrapped about her tore apart his bluffs. His face began to show signs of the very indecisiveness he had pretended not to see.

It wasn’t that Savas didn’t have regrets. He wasn’t ignorant of his own incompetence. Even so, the man was a royal. He might be a foolish one, but his sovereignty was a fact.

Yet did his natural-born privilege justify mass death?

Savas seized up, and the room went silent.

The woman did not take this chance to attack, even though Savas was frozen in hesitation, nor did she offer him any words. All she did was face him, staring with eyes that knew all but seemed unfettered by anything. It was only natural that the woman kept quiet. She wasn’t Yardan royalty. Just like Leonora, she had no direct stake in this fight.

Which was why…Savas alone had to be the one to decide.

Abruptly, he wilted. Softly, he admitted, “…There’s nothing I can do to stop it now…”

He was past the point of no return in his feud with Zisis, and the troops were about to sortie. If Savas didn’t strike, the other side would.

At this, the woman gave a wry smile. “Nothing has even begun yet. It’s not impossible to turn back. You just need to swallow your pride a little. Can you do that?”

She hopped down from the desk and walked over to Savas, reaching out an ivory hand and touching his cheek.

Her fingers felt warm and soft.

The heat seeped down into the prince, and he felt like crying. He thought of the face of his late mother.

“…Can I really make it in time?”

“If time is what you need, I’ll give you some,” replied the woman, and she smiled. Her voice was gentle.

The setting sun lent a glimmer to the whirling sandstorm.

Accompanied by mystical spirits, Tinasha did a final check of her spell and placed a camouflage over the entire thing so it would be undetectable. An average mage wouldn’t even be able to see the magic, though it was unclear whether another witch would.

Even so, it was leagues better to have it than not. Tinasha nodded approvingly at the spellwork, then drifted slowly through the air before landing on an outdoor walk. Oscar was already there waiting for her, with Gait and Neona next to him.

Oscar patted her head. “How is it?”

“It’ll do. If I make the magic too strong, it might ward them off. There’s actually a lot I’m not happy with about the spell’s construction, but I settled for some compromises,” Tinasha answered.

“I see,” said Oscar.

The witch gave a little yawn. She didn’t feel tired when focused on her work, but now that she’d stopped, she was tremendously sleepy. Perhaps that was her delicate body’s reaction to wielding such powerful magic.

Oscar rubbed her head. “How did it go in Yarda?”

“I threw out almost all of the key people involved in the infighting to various places near the border. I’ve sealed off the mages’ powers, so they won’t be able to get back right away. I also put laxatives in the water supply so the army can’t fight.”

“Every trick in the book, huh…?” Oscar remarked.

Tinasha’s tactics seemed pretty vulgar. However, she fended off Oscar’s comment apathetically. “I talked a little bit with Prince Savas. He seems to regret how things turned out, so that should give us a bit of time. Also, the king was drugged by a magic potion, so I cured him. A full recovery will take a while, but he’s not confined to his bed anymore.”

“What’s this about His Majesty?!” cried Gait in shock.

Pale faced, Neona pressed a hand to her lips. “He was drugged? I had no idea.”

“When you consider the timing of the first dose, it seems possible that Zisis was the initial culprit. One of Leonora’s minions definitely took over at some point, though. The potion isn’t all that potent, but over time it gradually robs you of your strength,” the witch explained calmly.

Neona grew agitated and cried out, “If you figured that out, then why didn’t you bring His Majesty with you?! Won’t it be even more dangerous for him if the witch learns he’s recovered?!”

Neona motioned as if to reach out and grab hold of Tinasha, but the witch remained unruffled. “Prince Savas told me he’d care for the king himself. There would be repercussions later if Leonora learned that your ruler fled the castle during this time of emergency. The king himself acknowledged this. Surely he can bear it for a day,” Tinasha answered sternly, and Neona was left with nothing to say.

Tinasha was right. A king’s fleeing a castle was tantamount to his surrendering it.

Neona was unable to offer an objection. Oscar looked down at her and said coldly, “It was her meddling that allowed us to slow down the internal conflict in Yarda. Didn’t I warn you at the start that this was all we intended to do?”

“…I’m very sorry,” Neona apologized, reddening and bowing her head before practically bolting away. Gait followed her.

Oscar and Tinasha were left alone on the walkway, and the latter let out a little sigh.

“Ugh. This is why I told you not to do anything unnecessary,” grumbled Oscar.

“It’s nothing a witch can’t clean up later,” Tinasha replied, floating into the air and winding her arms around his neck. She was cuddling up to him like a cat, and he grinned.

When Tinasha acted this way, she seemed like any other innocent girl, though she wasn’t the type to show just anyone unconditional kindness. The witch was tough on royals, undoubtedly due to her origins.

Suddenly, Oscar remembered what he’d heard from Aderayya. “Is Gaweid the name of a person or a place?”

“Oh, there’s a name I haven’t heard in forever. What’s going on?” Tinasha inquired, her eyes wide. Oscar explained things to her.

Now abreast of the situation, Tinasha dropped back down to the cobblestones. Her expression turned blank, and a shadow clouded her downcast eyes. “I didn’t think that bothered Leonora.”

“Was that when you two had your duel?” Oscar asked.

“No, that was much later… Gaweid was the name of a Tayiri king.”

Oscar’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Tayiri was the nation that hated mages. What kind of relationship could the master of such a place have had with a witch? He was curious but didn’t know if he should ask.

Tinasha shook her head with a faint smile. “It’s nothing too serious. At least, not for me.”

The pair set off along the walkway together. As the Yardan soldiers they passed turned their heads to look back at them, Tinasha recounted the story in dribs and drabs. “This occurred shortly after I had become a witch. At the time, Gaweid and Leonora were lovers—of a sort anyway. They weren’t in love. It’s more accurate to say that they were trying to control each other. Leonora wanted to mess with the nation that hated magic, and Gaweid wished to feel that he’d made the mages surrender by controlling a witch.”

“That’s stupid,” Oscar stated frankly.

The witch gave a pained smile. “And then I appeared on the scene… I was a singer in Tayiri when Leonora caught on to what I really was. She told Gaweid about me.”

“So he switched his focus to you?”

“Urgh… That’s a very blunt way of putting it, but in effect, that is what happened. When Gaweid heard that I had nearly been the queen of Tuldarr, he tried to make me his mistress. At the time, Tuldarr had just fallen, and guesses as to the reason were on everyone’s lips. Gaweid was trying to give other nations the impression that Tayiri had destroyed Tuldarr by making me his mistress,” Tinasha continued.

“What the hell? I’ve never heard something so ridiculous,” Oscar muttered, irritated. Even if rulers used dumb, cheap tricks to raise their country’s prestige, it was all a meaningless facade in the end. What did this king expect to accomplish with pride built on a foundation of lies? It boggled the mind.

A sarcastic smile crossed Tinasha’s lovely features. “Back then, I really wasn’t more than thirteen years old. The advances were very unwanted. Naturally, I left Tayiri immediately. Gaweid…ended up dying under suspicious circumstances later.”

“And that’s why Leonora has a grudge against you? It sounds like she’s just taking her anger out on you,” Oscar concluded.

“That’s not all it is… Fundamentally, we don’t get along. I know she simply doesn’t like me,” Tinasha said.

“So she sends out demons to attack you, all because she doesn’t like you?” Oscar asked skeptically.

“That’s what witches do. Have you forgotten?” questioned Tinasha, floating up and kissing his cheek.

There was a wry glint in those dark eyes.

She dreamed.

It was a vision of a day long past, when she was still a child.

“Come here, Sister!” cried the younger twin from the middle of a prettily manicured garden, waving her arm enthusiastically.

That was how their playtime always started. This was a memory of heartbreakingly halcyon days.

“They really look exactly alike. I’m thrilled our girls are so close, darling,” said the mother to her husband.

“They’re both the apple of my eye, my dear lady,” he replied.

She was the daughter of a local lord, and she spent her childhood happily at a castle in the middle of a forest with her affectionate parents and twin sister.

That life changed in an instant when someone broke into her home for a secret attack.

Snow drifted lazily down from the sky on a silent eve.

The intruder crept into the castle and murdered her parents as they slept. She was thrown out, alone and on the verge of death, into the dark woods.

“Save me, Elou…”

Her twin was nowhere to be found. For the first time in her life, she was alone.

The bleeding wouldn’t stop, and it was terribly cold. At some point, she collapsed in the snow.

The poor child couldn’t even guess why something so awful had happened to her.

By all rights, she should have died. Before she could, however, an elderly half-spirit woman rescued her.

In a cabin deep in the forest, she learned magic while working as the old lady’s servant.

It was all people could do to stay alive amid sudden upheavals. Thus it never occurred to the poor child that she would ever experience more hatred and pain than she had on that snowy night.

“…Sister…”

Leonora’s own whisper pulled her back to consciousness. She awoke in a dark room.

As she glanced around, she remembered she was in her chamber at Yarda Castle. Leonora sat up in bed slowly, pressing a hand to her head. She was still slightly addled. “A dream…?”

Something told her she’d definitely had one, but she couldn’t recall its contents.

For whatever reason, she’d been spending more and more time asleep the past few years. Maybe it was because her games didn’t delight her as they used to. If she was going to do something boring, she might as well dream when she had the chance.

That was why she came to countries, planted her seeds, wound the springs, and went to sleep. She wouldn’t watch from the sidelines as her machinations proceeded as she had arranged. The witch was interested in observing only once everything started to draw to a close.

As Leonora was a witch, she had plenty of time, and she was not given to fussing over minor details.

Occasionally, however, she mused, Maybe I’ve grown tired of the world.

Wherever she went, it was all the same.

From the dawn of time to the Dark Age to the Age of Witches, names changed, but events remained repetitious. People lived like fools, and then they died. Nothing the slightest bit electrifying ever occurred.

Despite that, the idea that she had lived too long was unappealing to Leonora.

She wanted to exist, so she did. The witch harbored no regrets about that, nor did she desire to go back to how things used to be at any point.

Leonora got out of bed and headed out into the hall, long white gown trailing behind her. “Savas?”

Hadn’t he gone to ready the troops for deployment? It was strange that he hadn’t hurried back to report to her. Had something happened?

“Maria? Are you there?”

Ordinarily, the witch’s servant would appear instantly, but today she didn’t. Puzzled, Leonora shook her head. She still felt sluggish; the fog of sleep refused to dissipate from her head. Memories drifted heavily about her mind. It was difficult to recall when she’d last seen Maria.

“Laketh? Mizha? Aderayya?” Leonora called. Her voice resounded through the corridor but went unanswered. She sighed and gave up, returning to her room.

When the witch glanced out the window and saw an azure moon hanging in the night sky, she scowled reflexively.

There was another of her kind who had taken the name of that pale sphere for her own. The youngest of the witches—the one Leonora disliked the most.

When Leonora had first met her, the other woman was but a child. The last queen of the fallen Magic Empire was standing in the midst of a crowd, her dark eyes flashing with hatred for mortals.

That sort of expression was unsuitable for a witch.

Whatever suffering that girl had endured, she had endured it and managed to become a witch. She should forget all about her misanthropy and have fun. Nothing good would come of letting resentment control her. Leonora knew that firsthand.

Leonora had revealed Tinasha to Gaweid on a whim, and while she was angry to be cast aside, it was nothing more than that.

Still, if she had to pick a time when something flared up inside her, it may have been when Gaweid looked at that skinny, lonely girl and said, “I like her eyes.”

Those words would come to haunt Leonora.

Those eyes. An abyss filled with hatred and hunger for revenge. The very same emotions that Leonora had finally let go of amid much agony.

Even at a young age, that witch contained such terrible suffering, but unlike Leonora she had managed to remain placid.

That was the sort of person Tinasha was, and it attracted people.

She was different from Leonora, who was a prisoner to sinister feelings that had warped into something ugly.

Leonora cast off her resentment and pasted on a smile to charm people, but Tinasha actually used the glimmer of her anger to fascinate.

“…Detestable woman.”

Leonora hated her. She still did, even though the resentment had faded from Tinasha’s eyes.

Unable to shake off the exhaustion clinging to her, Leonora sat down on the bed. “Unai, come here.”

Unai was her right-hand man, the one she trusted above all others and who had served her the longest.

This time, the witch’s request was answered. A tall man with dark skin appeared, carrying a slightly curved longsword. Once, his hair and eyes had been brown, but they had changed to deep crimson when Leonora gave him power.

Seeing his face, she broke into a smile. He knelt before her. “Have you called for me, Lady Leonora?”

“Has anything happened?” she asked.

“As you ordered, I have been in Gandona. Nothing has occurred.”

“Ah, I see…,” Leonora replied. She had forgotten about that. The woman felt as if she’d been left behind. A sort of shapeless anxiety was settling inside her body.

Unai poured a glass of water from a pitcher and offered it to his lady, who looked pallid. “Are you tired? You should lie down for a bit.”

“I just woke up, though…,” Leonora explained with a pained smile. Still, she obeyed and reclined after drinking some water. Her body sank into the bed, feeling oddly heavy. “Unai, stay with me until I fall asleep.”

“Yes, my lady,” he responded. The answer reassured her, and she closed her eyes.

She could rest a little more, just for tonight. And when she woke up, she’d do something more fun.

As a graceful smile played about the witch’s lips, she drifted off to sleep.

While Leonora drifted into slumber, the fortress of Cados was still wrapped in a curtain of night.

In a council room, the king of Farsas, his closest circle of advisers, and the Yardan general and mages were doing a final confirmation of plans. Oscar, who was leading the meeting, turned back to the witch at his side. “Tinasha, how many people do you think we’re up against?”

“Hmm, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. I took care of most of her followers that were in Yarda today. I actually do wish I’d done something about Unai, though,” the witch admitted, taking a sip of tea. Out of the corner of her eye, the sandstorm raged beyond the window. “Mages, I need to ask you to maintain the spell I’ve laid out over the entire desert. Once I engage Leonora, I won’t have any spare mental capacity for doing it myself. If I use sigils to draw a magic circle, she’ll find out immediately… I’m sorry for the oversight.”

All the mages in the room bowed their heads in assent.

Oscar picked up the fortress floor plans. “The officers and soldiers will defend the garrison. Tinasha, can your spirits handle her demons?”

“They’ve said they would, so I’m leaving that to them,” she answered.

“Leonora specializes in summoning magic, right?” Oscar recalled.

“She does, but there’s a spell banning all summoning set up around the fortress… Plus, we’ve got some help. The only high-ranking demons who would answer her call are those already under contract to serve her. So we’re putting pressure on them,” evasively explained the witch, mischief plain.

Oscar realized that Travis had to be involved. He must be the one causing trouble for Leonora’s demons. Evidently, the witch had made herself even more enemies before the battle began.

Tinasha flicked at the satin bow tied around a lock of her hair. “Even so, we won’t know if we can kill all the demons or not until things get started. It’ll be a lot for the generals to deal with.”

“We will do our best,” the Yardan soldiers replied.

The witch nodded, but there was still the faintest crease in her brow. Her dark eyes surveyed everyone in the room. “The Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned…Leonora. Unsurprisingly, her actions have made her the most hunted witch of all, but she’s managed to stay alive, eating away at new countries to her heart’s content. She’s underhanded, cunning, and dangerous. Please be careful.”

As this warning was coming from the most powerful witch, it was particularly galvanizing for everyone. Tinasha softened her expression and added, “I’ll disperse the sandstorm tomorrow morning. Even if it takes her some time to get ready once she notices…she’ll probably arrive sometime before the end of the day. If she doesn’t, I’ll take action.”

“Let’s hope she takes the bait, then,” stated Oscar calmly, drawing the meeting to a close.

With a historically unprecedented battle against a witch looming, there wasn’t a single person without worry.

However, those of Farsas still thought they would be able to manage because they had their king and his beloved witch on their side. They knew very well how powerful those two were. It was no exaggeration to call them the mightiest pair in all the land.

They filtered out of the room, trusting that everything would be over by the following night.

Once Tinasha returned to her room, she checked on the mystical spirits stationed around the fortress.

She’d placed them in battle positions in advance in case her infiltration of Yarda Castle was discovered, but at present, there were no signs that Leonora would be attacking sooner than anticipated.

After hearing from her spirits that nothing was out of order, Tinasha stepped away from the window. Oscar was sitting on the bed, polishing Akashia with a cloth. She sat down next to him.

“You’ve fought her once before, right? How did that go?” Oscar asked.

“I won. But…it was more like a draw due to injury. My second got seriously wounded,” Tinasha explained.

“Your second?”

“We fought a two-on-two duel. On her side was Unai…and on mine was the man who taught me to use a sword. They were roughly even when it came to skill, but Unai is virtually inhuman.”

“Inhuman? What do you mean?”

“Apparently, Leonora made him absorb a demon. So his physical abilities are a little strange,” she elaborated.

Oscar waved Akashia over a candle. After checking the blade’s sheen, he sheathed it. “I take it I’ll be up against him, then?”

“I think so,” Tinasha responded. She was in charge of this battle between witches.

Oscar gave a slight nod. “Relax. I’ll beat him—it won’t even be close.”

“Please do,” she urged, looking up at him with a smile. In her eyes was all the confidence of the most powerful witch.

Oscar glanced at her and set Akashia beside the bed. He pulled her into his arms, caught hold of her chin, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Tinasha accepted the kiss, her eyes closed, but once she realized his kisses and touches were moving slowly from her neck to go lower and lower, she blushed and pushed him away. “We can’t.”

“Why?”

“There’s a time and a place.”

“Understood,” he accepted, which relaxed Tinasha.

But in the very next moment, she found herself pushed back onto the bed, and her eyes grew wide. “You didn’t understand a thing!”

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard that from you.”

“Listen to what I’m saying!”

In a leisurely manner, he kissed from her neck down to her chest. His large hands gently caressed up her ivory legs. As she bore the tingly, hot sensations making her back arch and shudder, Tinasha reached out and pinched his ear. “What are you planning on doing if she shows up now?”

“If that happens, I’ll stop. But I’d regret it if I didn’t do this now and died tomorrow.”

“D-don’t say that! You’ll invite misfortune…”

The man really could make such mean jokes, even though he never once thought he’d lose.

Oscar looked up and smiled, then whispered in Tinasha’s ear. “Now that you understand…indulge me.”

“…I’m starting to really feel like blasting you away tomorrow during all the confusion…,” she muttered.

He didn’t appear nervous at all. Resisting him felt more and more ridiculous.

Tinasha gave up the fight, though she was struck with the strangest urge to burst out laughing. She wound her arms around his neck and hugged him tight enough to feel all of him.

The next morning, Tinasha stood on the ramparts. Oscar had needed to wake her up, and her eyes still looked bleary.

With her were the Yardan forces—wearing concerned expressions—and those from Farsas—with little smiles, as they understood why Tinasha was having a hard time getting out of bed lately. The witch lifted her arms to face the sandstorm.

“I command a transformation of the definition. I command the meaning to be lost. Should the cage become the world, the boundary shall reverse. Register my life as everything.”

From the witch’s hands, a spell teeming with magic spread like a spiderweb across the entire region.

It swelled up instantaneously before breaking away from her and dissolving into the sandstorm. Seconds after it disappeared, the storm calmed to nothing.

Little by little, visibility improved.

The white desert glittered under the sun’s rays. Iosef and Neona gasped to see such gigantic dunes.

Tinasha covered her face with both hands and yawned. “That should do it… Okay. We’ve got at least an hour until Leonora gets here. That’s if she’s awake.”

“Would she not notice it if she’s asleep?” Oscar asked.

“Maybe…,” Tinasha said, giving a lazy, drowsy answer.

In response, Oscar pressed his fists against her temples, and her eyes welled up with tears. “O-ow… I’m awake…”

“Go make sure you’re fully awake before she gets here. Pamyra, I’m counting on you,” Oscar ordered.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” replied Pamyra, dragging Tinasha back inside the fortress as the witch rubbed at her eyes.

The Yardans watched her go with evident worry, but Oscar waved a dismissive hand. “She’ll be fine. Also, we might have longer than an hour, so we don’t all need to wait out here so intently. Split up into shifts,” he instructed, and he went back inside. Kumu and Als started dividing up the remaining personnel.

Neona watched the king of Farsas disappear into the garrison and realized that she wanted to chase after him. She shook her head, tamping down her feelings.

Now wasn’t the time for that. The very existence of her country hinged on this battle. She focused her energies on preparing herself mentally for what was to come.

Her hands curling into light fists, Neona, too, went back into the fortress to spend an hour waiting.

The sound of something breaking echoed inside her head. Leonora looked up instinctively.

Not a moment earlier, she had been sound asleep. She barked out sharply, “Maria! Aderayya! Shink!”

The call resounded impotently. Leonora sifted through her memories. Hadn’t she ordered Aderayya to go to Farsas?

“Don’t tell me…”

She couldn’t sense her followers’ existences. Savas wasn’t coming, either, and the sandstorm trapping the princess had dispersed.

It was obvious whose doing this was; no other could stand up to a witch.

The world turned red with Leonora’s rage. Windowpanes in the room shattered one after another with violent crashes. The witch’s shrill cry smashed apart the shards of glass flying through the air into even smaller pieces. “UNAI!”

“I’m here,” he said, appearing and kneeling before her.

Leonora regarded him arrogantly. “I’m going to go and kill that woman. You will help me.”

“Yes, my lady,” he accepted.

Leonora narrowed her eyes, and a smile materialized on her crimson lips.

If she had dispelled the sandstorm, that meant she must be in the fortress. She’d barged in unaware that it was Leonora’s territory. How very foolish.

Though Leonora was taking the rare bit of initiative, this all fell within the realm of her expectations. After all, she’d elected from the very beginning to enjoy whatever happened.

An hour remained until the expected arrival of the Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned.

Neona practiced her sword form for a while in the fortress’s training area but couldn’t seem to calm herself. After some deliberation, she decided to take a bath to rinse off her sweat and soothe her tense mood.

While the sandstorm had everyone trapped, water had been a growing concern. Therefore, the fortress’s public baths had been closed, and people made do with sponge baths. However, when the party from Farsas arrived, that beautiful mage woman used magic to draw up water. Apparently, the nullification on transportation magic didn’t affect her at all. Those who reaped the benefits of her power felt grateful, but still apprehensive.

After undressing and slipping into the large main bathing room, Neona was shocked to catch sight of a black-haired woman through the steamy haze. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, facing away from Neona and soaking her legs in the water. Next to her was a clothed lady mage, who was combing out her master’s raven tresses. This attendant noticed Neona right away and looked up to give her a nod, but her lady showed no signs she was aware of the new bather.

Neona returned the nod, then moved to the edge of the tub some distance away from them and knelt there. As she ladled out water and poured it over herself, she watched the black-haired woman out of the corner of her eye. Her soft-looking creamy white skin glowed with an allure that could enthrall anyone, regardless of gender. She hadn’t introduced herself to Neona by name, but Neona knew this must be the witch.

If not, she couldn’t have undone Leonora’s magic as easily as she had. More than that, Neona had also heard the stories of the king of Farsas being infatuated with the witch he kept at his side.

Neona’s heart ached to see that the witch’s ivory skin was marred with deep, red scars in places. She meant to keep in mind that this beautiful witch was his paramour, but it was still hard to be in her presence.

Without thinking, Neona bit her lip, then realized that the witch had returned her gaze and was staring back at her. She must have noticed Neona peeking at her; Neona flushed with shame.

However, the witch only cocked her head in confusion. From behind, Pamyra whispered something. Tinasha listened, then covered her face with a hand and winced. “I’m so sorry…”

Instantly, the scars on her body all vanished. Neona gasped at the witch’s magical prowess.

She hadn’t even used an incantation. Her power was paramount. She was human, but also not.

The pale woman’s ebon eyes reminded Neona of Leonora’s green ones. She’d met the other witch only once, in Yarda Castle. It was evident that they both possessed irresistible charm.

And Neona herself had none of that power. She didn’t have that sort of gaze.

Upon realizing as much, she felt intensely despondent and distressed. Emotions she couldn’t suppress leaked out. “…Why are you with him? Are you controlling him just like the other does to Prince Savas?”

Once the question slipped free of her lips, she realized her indiscretion. The blood drained from her face. With her feelings all in a mess, she’d blurted out something she shouldn’t have.

Neona was frozen stiff, but the witch didn’t seem bothered at all. She gave a light smile. “Controlling him? He doesn’t listen to a thing I say. I’m the one who’s at his beck and call,” she replied, dipping a hand in the water. Slowly, she drew it out. The liquid that should have dripped down stopped in midair instead, as if held up by some invisible hand, and formed a little tower of water.

But the witch spared only one glance at her delicate creation before demolishing it artlessly. Just as blithely, she asked Neona, “Do you desire him, Princess Nephelli?”

“…!”

Her heart felt like it stopped—both at what the witch asked and at the name she used.

Gasping, Neona asked, “H-how did you…?”

“It was very easy to deduce. You didn’t object at all when I delayed ending the sandstorm. Any duty-bound servant would wish to end the storm and seek out their lady as swiftly as possible. Also, that bit about the princess having a ring needed for a coronation is a lie, isn’t it? The true key is a magic sigil embedded in your body. I can tell just by looking,” the witch answered with a smile.

Neona had nothing to say for herself. The witch had seen through everything.

Nephelli heaved a little sigh and straightened up. She gazed back evenly into the witch’s eyes. Shining from her own was the certain majesty of someone raised as a princess. “Does he know…?”

“I haven’t said anything, but he has good intuition. He may have realized.”

“I see…,” murmured the princess, her voice almost fading into the steam of the room.

Tinasha scooped up some water and rinsed her face. She whispered to Pamyra, who was awaiting orders behind her, “I feel alert now. I really have a hard time when other people wake me up… I should have slept alone.”

“If you had, I would have come to rouse you,” Pamyra pointed out.

“Urgh…,” Tinasha mumbled, pushing back the inky black hair that had fallen in her face. When she glanced over, she saw that Nephelli was sitting on the edge of the same tub, staring down at her hands. Tinasha observed the face of this lovely princess.

If not for the interference of witches, Nephelli might have become queen of Farsas.

If the Witch of Silence hadn’t placed a curse on Oscar.

If Tinasha hadn’t become his protector.

If Leonora hadn’t set her sights on Yarda.

The possibilities were endless.

People’s fates were always unwieldy. And the witches who toyed with them were like deformations driven from the pages of history. They could not be like normal humans at all. The slightest of emotions or any capricious whim of theirs could change the fates of many. Tinasha herself hated that idea and wouldn’t come into contact with anyone.

“A ‘pitiful little girl,’ huh…?”

Leonora had once mocked Tinasha with those words. Back when she’d hated people with everything in her body. Leonora had ridiculed Tinasha for her life of avoiding others.

And it was true.

At that time, she really had been just a little girl. She was afraid of people, didn’t want any contact with them, and was ever consumed with anger. Even after Tinasha had managed to process those emotions, she’d built a tower for the express purpose of isolation.

The witch could have never imagined that anyone would show up and want her for herself—as a person.

“…He’s beyond help.”

Still, she was done waffling over the decision.

Tinasha remembered the look in Aurelia’s eyes.

They had glimmered with a strong determination. That was someone whose spirit was a light burning bright within their fragile body.

Aware that she’d grown fraught with emotion, the witch breathed in deeply.

It would be all right.

She would stand up and face her.

Calmly, Tinasha let out an exhalation.

Nephelli struggled to work out whether she should say something or not after noticing that the witch had gotten to her feet and looked up.

While she’d worn a gentle smile a few moments ago, now her face was cold and shrewd. A chill ran up Nephelli’s spine at the sight of it, despite the warm bathwater.

A basket of clothes appeared in Pamyra’s hands. The witch retrieved her clothes and donned them, still dripping wet. Pamyra fastened the outfit tight around her.

Tinasha muttered indifferently, “One hour exactly. She must be pretty angry.”

Pamyra nodded. Tinasha noted the gesture, then turned back to Nephelli and gave her a smile as beautiful as a flower in bloom. “I’ll be off now.”

With a light wave of her fingers, she disappeared.

Left behind, the princess stared in blank amazement at the spot where the witch had just been. She felt slightly neglected and greatly troubled.

“You’re late. At least dry your hair,” chided Oscar, who had been gazing up at the sky from the ramparts when the witch teleported next to him. He gave her a dumbfounded look when he saw the state she was in.

“Sorry,” she said, though it wasn’t just her hair—she was wet all over. Droplets clung to her leg, visible through the high slit of her mage’s attire. She may as well have just stepped out of the water.

However, Tinasha didn’t seem bothered at all as she used her fingers to comb out her hair. At the same time, her black locks dried to a glossy sheen. All the dampness was drained away from her body.

For some time now, a series of explosions had been sounding in the east. A closer look revealed that a swarm of black dots was headed for the fortress. The mystical spirits were engaging the demons Leonora had summoned for battle.

Tinasha cupped a hand around her ear and then issued an order to a few of her spirits that weren’t already embroiled in the fight. “Saiha, Nil, Itz, go to the east and help them out.”

She listened for their acknowledgment and put her hand down.

Oscar looked around at his subjects, standing around him ready and waiting. “Remember what I said yesterday. Don’t die. That would be ridiculous. Put your own life first. Als, I’ll be going out with Tinasha, so you hold down the fort.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Als replied.

Looking up at the eastern sky, the witch grinned. “She’s here.”

Tinasha flung out her right hand gracefully, and a sword appeared in its waiting grasp.

Next to her, Oscar called the name of the dragon on his shoulder. It responded instantly and assumed its true size. Nark waited for him right outside the rampart, and Oscar crossed over the railing to leap onto the creature’s back.

The young king turned and stretched out a hand to his protector. “Tinasha, if we win this fight…”

“Yes?”

“Will you marry me?”

“…Yes, I will. Let’s get married,” she replied with a captivating smile, and she took his hand.

Oscar’s eyes went wide. Tinasha tugged on his arm and used the force of that to leap onto the dragon’s back so easily that one had to wonder if she weighed nothing at all.

Oscar patted her head. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course,” she said.

On the ramparts, the people of Farsas watched them with expressions that were a blend of surprise and joy. Oscar gave his beautiful fiancée a faint smile. “I guess I can’t afford to lose now.”

“Were you planning to?” she teased.

Casting her long eyelashes down, Tinasha closed her eyes. Oscar could hear her drawing a deep breath.

When she opened them again, the darkness in those orbs blazed with the warlike gleam of someone at the precipice of battle. Her long black locks fluttered in the wind. A smile crept across her lips. “Come on, it’s time for war.”

“Let’s go,” Oscar said, and the red dragon rose into the air. The great creature circled slowly before vanishing into the east. Everyone left in the fortress watched them go with their hearts in their mouths.

As Nark zipped along through the air, it must have sensed the enemy. The farther they flew to the east, the more clearly they could see hordes of demons in the air. In the sunny sky, the mystical spirits’ magic dispelled their gigantic fireballs.

Tinasha surmised the flow of battle and frowned. “There’s too many of them. Defeating Leonora will end things faster than dealing with all this.”

“You can disable my barrier if needed. Maintaining it uses some of your power, doesn’t it?” offered Oscar.

“Mmmm… I guess I’ll take you up on that…,” said Tinasha, drawing blood from one of her index fingers. Then she rubbed it behind Oscar’s ear. “There might be aftershocks from our magic, so don’t be afraid to wipe the blood away and let me guard you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her.

The witch smiled and nodded at him. Then she pulled out a pair of white ribbons. They were the sort that could usually be found in her hair. One went around Oscar’s left bicep. Tinasha tied the other around her own arm.

“What are these?” questioned Oscar.

“I don’t know how this is going to go. If anything happens, give that a tug. The other person will feel it.”

“You feel a pull? That’s all it does?”

“That’s all it does. But that’s enough, right?” she asked, dark eyes boring into Oscar. The pair had a peerless, mutual trust. Tinasha knew that with the two of them working together, it would be all right.

She seemed so innocent, and Oscar smiled. “Got it. That’s more than plenty.”

Tinasha grinned back. When she faced forward again, she was back to being the witch who had already lived for over four hundred years.

She held her sword parallel to the ground and held her left hand over the middle of it.

A gang of demons had noticed Nark and were heading their way. The witch’s clear voice rang out loudly.

“Let it be defined—I summon and control you. Light, appear and follow my command!”

A white light hot enough to burn the world flashed across the sky for an instant, swallowing up the pack of demons. It continued to race through the air until it abruptly dispersed.

A man and a woman were floating where the luminance had stopped.

“It’s been a long time, little brat.” The Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned smirked.

Leonora was a witch with rare natural charm.

This extended to more than just her physical appearance, though that also had the power to irrevocably beguile people’s hearts.

She had honey-colored hair that trailed in loose curves and green eyes. Her union of looks and grace were enough to ruin nations. In her gaze was a bloodthirsty hunger, though there was also something dissociative there, as if she’d lost interest in everything.

A dark-skinned, red-haired man stood next to Leonora, his sword drawn.

The Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned smiled sweetly. “I’ve come to see you. Are you satisfied now?”

Tinasha’s only response to that was a sneer. She lightly kicked off the dragon’s back and leaped into the air, slashing horizontally with her blade.

“These threads wait for no affirmation.”

It was a short incantation, refined to the utmost.

As she spoke, hundreds of red threads materialized from her sword and flew at Leonora and Unai.

Leonora put out a hand to try to shoot them down with magic, but they stretched out like a spiderweb and encased her barrier. Each thread was as sharp as a needle, striking at the two of them from all directions.

Leonora tutted in annoyance. “Repel!”

Her fierce force of will made the red threads on one side vanish.

Now Leonora could see again, but Tinasha was no longer there.

Then a fearsome shock wave crashed down onto Unai from right above him. Never given a chance to resist, he was slammed onto the desert far below, sending up a massive plume of sand.

“Wha…?” Leonora muttered, frantically trying to check if he was all right, but the dragon diving toward her ally blocked him from view. The witch held up a hand to send an attack at that meddlesome dragon, but she sensed something and teleported a few paces back.

Tinasha’s slender sword sliced through where Leonora had been a mere second earlier.

Tinasha swung her sword back up and offered her a cordial smile. “Don’t worry about Unai. My man will entertain him.”

“Spirit sorcerers who’ve lost their purity are so insolent…”

“I had to redo all my spells, you know. Admittedly, I’m grateful for the chance to test them in combat,” said the Witch of the Azure Moon, lifting her left hand toward Leonora and launching a compressed mass of power at her.

Thrust ungracefully onto the desert sands, Unai bounced to his feet. Leonora had fortified his body so that he could take an impact like that without a scratch.

Partway through brushing off sand, he held his sword above his head on instinct.

As though to answer the gesture, a powerful blow crashed down.

The hit was so violent that an ordinary person would have felt it vibrating through their bones. But Unai bore it and forced his opponent’s sword back. Said opponent jumped off the dragon and used that momentum to leap back.

The master of the royal sword straightened up, his feet crunching on the sand. He stared back at Unai, a brash smile curling his lips. His dragon swooped in circles above them in the sky.

“Your sword is an eyesore. I’ll bury it along with its user,” proclaimed Unai.

“I can’t have that. She’d be pissed,” Oscar replied playfully, making sure of his footing.

It was easy to slip on such loose ground. So long as the king was careful, however, he didn’t foresee an issue. He readied Akashia, breathed out hard, and rushed at Unai.

“Has your firepower lost some of its spark? What a fool you were,” taunted Leonora.

Tinasha smiled. “I’m free to live my life the way I please.”

As she spoke, she cast a spell with no incantation, using her sword as an intermediary. At the same time, she intoned a different bit of magic that formed in her left hand. She brandished the sparking sword at Leonora.

Lightning lanced forward from Tinasha’s weapon, shedding white flame as it traveled. Following its track, Tinasha teleported in front of Leonora. Without wasting a second, she hurled the other spell she’d readied.

Not to be outdone, the Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned raised her left hand and absorbed the bolt of electricity with it. Then she infused her right hand with magic and caught Tinasha’s second attack there.

There was a moment of stillness, and then a huge explosion bloomed as their peerless powers collided.

The two witches rode the backlash and distanced themselves from each other, both still hovering.

Tinasha dismissed her sword and began to weave a spell in both hands.

“I define the state of things. Nonexistence shall be zero. Existence shall be one. Words in the form of code command a transformation.”

Intricately intertwining silver sigils appeared before her. They absorbed magic from her and glimmered brightly.

The symbols formed a sphere that slowly expanded in size before assuming the form of giant fanged jaws.

“…Go,” Tinasha ordered, and the maw glided through the air toward Leonora, who leaped to the right.

As she kept her distance from the jaws advancing on her, she threw a succession of spheres of light at them. But the jaws absorbed all of them as they pursued and closed in on her. When she saw them open wide, panic flashed across her face.

“Why, you…!”

Its sharp fangs almost snatched hold of her, but before they could, Leonora tapped herself. Her fingertips were infused with magic. When the spell’s power poured into the giant set of jaws, they imploded and fell apart.

Leonora had no time to feel relieved, though, as a sharp, keen pain seared into her.

“…Ngh!”

Looking down, she saw a dagger stabbing into the white flesh of her calf. Cursing, she pulled it out. The wound closed up instantly.

As Tinasha watched her opponent heal, she frowned slightly. “While I knew she could do that, it is quite troublesome…”

As a witch, no one was superior to Leonora in the restorative arts. Even if Tinasha landed an attack to keep her in check, the injury would mend immediately. This was partly why no one had managed to kill Leonora.

“Do I need to land a more lethal blow…?”

As Tinasha pondered how to strike next, she prepared a new spell and raced through the air.

From the ramparts, Meredina watched the eastern sky.

For a while now, she’d heard the sounds of tremendous blasts, accompanied by bursts of red and white light far in the distance. As enormous spells collided, all mages in view of the spectacle gazed with bated breath.

Als clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “They’re here.”

Meredina spied a pack of demons winging over from the south. They must have slipped through a gap in the spirits’ defenses. Tension thrummed through the people on the ramparts at the enemy’s arrival.

Als unsheathed his sword. The sizable double-edged weapon was tinged with an almost wet sort of shine. He swung it about, gauging its weight, then made toward the southeast.

He arrived just in time to see the first demon set upon a guardsman.

Als ran in front of the soldier and slashed diagonally. The instant the sharp point found flesh, a deep laceration gouged its way into the creature, as if the blade were wider than it was. The sword’s full arc left the demon’s body lopped in two pieces that toppled lifelessly to the ground.

“Good cutting ability. I should’ve known,” Als remarked to himself.

Meredina hurried to his side. He checked her over, then readied his weapon for the next enemy to come swooping down.

Doan glanced over worriedly as he caught sight of Als and Meredina battling monsters out of the corner of his eye.

Almost all the mages were busy maintaining Tinasha’s spell. The enchantment that prevented the summoning of more demons in the desert was their greatest strength and vulnerability. The fortress would fall if enemies broke past Tinasha’s spirits and summoned fresh troops nearby. For this reason, Doan and the others were pouring magic into the spell, carefully and intently.

Fortunately, Als and his fellow soldiers kept the demons from reaching the mages. Just as Doan dared to believe that things would be okay so long as there were no surprises, an unfamiliar man teleported right in front of him.

The man’s long hair was a faint violet color, and so were his eyes. Such inhuman coloring and gorgeous looks were traits often seen in high-ranking demons. Doan realized what was happening and shuddered.

This wasn’t one of Tinasha’s spirits, which meant he was a demon who served Leonora.

An enemy had appeared unexpectedly, and Doan started to construct a different spell while still maintaining the major one.

Unfortunately, the demon’s eyes fixed right on him. He didn’t have any time to attack or defend himself. He prepared for death, but Neona unsheathed her sword and struck.

“Take that!”

The intruder took one look at her and repelled her sword with his bare hand. Pushed backward, Neona fell to the ground.

“Princess Nephelli!” shouted Gait. Doan was shocked at that revelation, but grateful for the time she’d bought him. He and several other mages hurled magic at the demon.

It was a high-voltage attack by a team of court mages. Such a level of power would have erased a human without leaving so much as a speck behind, but the demon withstood it without lifting a finger.

Doan stood dumbfounded as he watched his ineffectual attack vanish.

The demon looked around with a cruel smirk. “I was ordered to take one of you back alive. It doesn’t matter who.”

Everyone gasped. They understood the enemy’s goal immediately—a hostage in exchange for Oscar or Tinasha.

The demon reached out for Pamyra, who was close to him. Her expression contorted to show a mix of nervousness and obstinance.

When he saw that, Doan exclaimed, “Don’t do it!”

Pamyra jumped slightly and looked at him.

She’d been prepared to end her life in service of her lady. Doan stopped her with one harsh glare.

His king had told them not to perish needlessly. They couldn’t disobey that order.

But at the same time, they didn’t have a reliable way of breaking out of this situation.

“What, is it already over?” the demon teased, watching them with amusement as he reached for Pamyra again.

Just as he was about to touch her, the high-pitched voice of a young girl called, “What stupid thing are you doing? Are you an idiot?”

A hand appeared out of thin air behind the demon. It was pale and elegant, but each of the nails was as long as a hook, curved and glittering.

The talons bore down toward the demon’s neck, and he narrowly avoided the swipe.

He whirled around, and the rest of Pamyra’s savior appeared. It was a red-haired girl wearing a dauntless grin.

The violet-haired demon’s eyes widened in shock. “Mila Fierua. How many thousands of years has it been?”

“I don’t know who you are, nobody,” the witch’s spirit declared arrogantly in a lilting tone. Then she clacked her claws, ready to rake through her prey.

Oscar met the sword thrust at him, his boots scraping for purchase in the white sand, and leaped backward as he forced it back.

He kept finding openings and striking at Unai, but the other man’s inhuman reflexes allowed him to fall back before suffering anything critical. Any blows Oscar did manage to land healed up instantly. It was plain enough that Oscar was the more skilled fighter, but the battle threatened to last forever. As time went on, fatigue would set in, and he would be at a disadvantage.

He couldn’t spare a glance up at the sky, but he’d heard explosions and seen flashes of light reflected on the ground. The witches must still be battling.

“I wanted to take care of my part first… I wonder what to do,” muttered Oscar, leveling the point of Akashia at Unai.

Leonora’s red-haired right-hand man struck at Oscar with his sword, kicking up a small cloud of sand. As Oscar parried one thrust, then another from his opponent’s curved blade, he watched for an opening.

After he parried the fifth attack, Oscar swiftly sent Akashia chasing after Unai’s sword arm while it was still drawn back. He sliced through the middle of the limb, cleaving through before Unai could jump out of the way.

Fresh blood spilled onto the ground.

Unai’s right arm dropped to the sand.

Oscar’s strikes kept coming as he tried to lop off Unai’s head next. The one-armed man caught the blade with his left hand.

As he did, his right arm was growing back. Oscar stared in shock at the hand growing out of the bloody stump.

“I suppose inhuman really is the appropriate word for you,” he quipped.

“Weaklings can joke now?” spat Unai dryly.

Oscar struck at his enemy’s left arm, then immediately pulled Akashia back. He took a step back before kicking Unai’s severed limb and sword far away.

Unai stared at his weapon as it moved to an inaccessible location. His gaze dropped to his empty right hand. The man’s eyes narrowed, and his re-grown hand transformed into a large sickle. Unai brandished his weaponized right hand above him.

“All your struggling is fruitless. You’re just a human in the end,” the man declared.

“We’ll see if it was fruitless when it’s all over,” Oscar shot back, grinning as he readjusted his grip on Akashia.

Spell after spell sped from Tinasha’s hands, and the woman barely kept from sighing.

Two female demons—twins—had been assisting Leonora for a while now. Their long, soft white hair fluttered in the air as they pursued Tinasha.

“This is extremely irritating…,” she muttered, blocking an incessant rain of attacks as she watched for an opportunity to counter. Her spirits were all keeping the other demons in check and defending the fortress, so she couldn’t ask them to be her backup. One or two of her servants might find themselves free after a time, but the witch couldn’t wait that long.

Tinasha darted to one side to avoid a volley of light arrows that poured down at her. Through the luminous downpour, she could see Leonora working on a massive spell.

Her vibrant green eyes landed on Tinasha, and she sneered. “You’re just going to run around? I see that four centuries have done little to improve your tactics.”

As she spoke, her spell—a magic attack infused with a tremendous amount of power—erupted forth.

A gigantic scarlet vortex closed in on Tinasha. Arching an eyebrow, she jumped back. As if to draw the string of an imperceptible bow, she pulled her right arm back.

Then she let an invisible arrow fly.

“Pierce through.”

The projectile was honed as sharp as any could be. It lanced into the center of the vortex—and shot through it.

The arrow ran straight into Leonora’s belly, splitting it open.

Bits of flesh and blood flew through the air, and her face contorted into a mask of pain and rage. As for the conjured tornado, it rose up high into the sky thanks to Tinasha warping its trajectory.

“I’ll admit you’ve got a trick or two up your sleeve, brat…,” Leonora seethed. The wound in her belly closed instantaneously.

“Of course I do. We’re witches,” Tinasha replied.

“I know that. Better than you do, I’d say,” snapped the Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned, spitting out bloody saliva. Then she aimed a palm toward the desert below. “So I’m going to show you what a real witch is, since your life of complacency seems to have robbed you of that knowledge.”

Leonora’s green eyes darkened a shade. The scorn disappeared from her beautiful features. In a blank voice, she intoned:

“That which is changing, that which has no form, end your state of flux. Destroy your form. That will be the end of the finite.”

Then she murmured lovingly:

“Appear, my everlasting stones.”

Minute tremors sounded from the earth in reply to Leonora’s words. The vibrations were coming from the desert down below. More precisely, they were coming from the wasteland underneath.

Leonora’s eyes were fixed on one section of the desert that began to tremble, gripped by some force. A whirlpool kicked up, pulling in everything nearby, including Oscar. Unai stood right where he was.

Tinasha went pale and cried out, “Oscar! I’m going to teleport you!”

She cast a transportation array to pull Oscar out of there. But Leonora hurled her own power at it, smashing it apart.

“Ugh…! You’re maddening!”

Tinasha threw up a barrier against the magic Leonora kept hurling at her. She searched for Oscar down in all the swirling sand—

Suddenly, thousands of insects with crimson wings came fluttering out of nowhere, so thick she couldn’t see a thing.

“Bloodred butterflies?!”

The creatures that formed from chaos between the realms—born from the casting of large-scale forbidden curses.

Tinasha had no idea what was happening, but down below her feet, something long buried was emerging.

The object’s eruption through the white sand was heralded by terrible quaking.

A titanic block of amber caught the sun’s rays, glittering gold.

And locked away inside it was a castle, of all things.

Dumbfounded, Tinasha identified the structure that had slept below the wasteland. It was something from one of the myths surrounding Leonora.

“…The Amber Castle.”

“Isn’t it gorgeous? I made it a long time ago,” Leonora said proudly.

The Amber Castle of legends was a real castle that had existed in the Dark Age. It was a secluded place inhabited by nobles and intellectuals who had escaped the horrors of war. But one day, Leonora visited and sealed the building, and everyone within, inside a giant block of amber.

Then she buried it under the wasteland.

As the Amber Castle touched open air for the first time in hundreds of years, it created hordes of bloodred butterflies. Tinasha clapped a hand to her mouth at the sheer scale of how many people had died while shut up in the castle.

But then she realized the situation and gasped. “Oscar…”

She couldn’t find him at first, but spied a small crack on one side of the Amber Castle when she looked closer. He had probably used Akashia to cut open a hole and gone inside to keep from being flattened between the sands and the castle. Such a maneuver wouldn’t have been possible under normal circumstances, but Leonora had made the Amber Castle out of magic, which enabled his desperate move.

Tinasha was partially relieved but looked up when she felt a colossal wave of magic. She looked at Leonora and saw a mass of magic in her hands—one far surpassing that of the attack she’d just fired. Tinasha realized that at some point, all the bloodred butterflies had disappeared. With a strained smile, she asked, “Is this your trump card?”

“What a tacky way of putting it. This is all my territory,” Leonora retorted. The woman launched a blinding surge of white light, imbued with strength exacerbated by innumerable butterfly bloodstones.

Such immense magic could destroy anything in its path. Leonora had poured all of her might into this blow, and it burned the air as it grew larger and larger.

I can’t take this hit, Tinasha thought, and she moved to evade it. But she realized what was behind her and stopped. The fortress was at her back. If she escaped, the garrison and everyone in it would perish.

“Vanish this meaning! My thoughts shall transform the world! Vanish it! …Vanish it!”

Tinasha manifested a defensive barrier in front of her. She poured as much magic as she could into it. Pale brilliance blocked out the sky, so bright it dazzled the eyes.

The next thing Tinasha knew, Leonora’s attack overtook her.

The massive magic attack rocked the sky.

Even the encased castle trembled. As Oscar walked down a hallway glittering with gold, he frowned and looked around him.

“Did she do something…?” he muttered, but there was no reply. He also saw no sign of the grotesquely shaped opponent he needed to defeat.

When the castle appeared from underground, Unai had gotten sucked into the amber forming the outer shell. Oscar was nearly engulfed when he slipped after his enemy into the resin.

The structure’s interior was as still as death. Akashia in hand, Oscar made his way down a deserted corridor.

“The Amber Castle, huh…? Now that I see it up close, it’s just a regular palace,” he commented. He’d been shocked to see the huge mass of amber rising from below the earth, but the interior was a more familiar scene.

Half-decomposed human skeletons were strewn here and there, and red butterflies fluttered about, but aside from that, Oscar spotted nothing extraordinary. Amber had seeped in around the windows, but not so much as to make the halls impassable.

Oscar reached the end of the long passage and entered the great hall at the castle’s center. As in the ballroom in Gandona’s castle, the ceiling formed a tall, vaulted atrium.

Golden light filtered into the hall; it was like a magic palace out of a storybook. Light was refracted and glittered along the walls and ceiling, lending the space a splendor worthy of adoring sighs.

However, this was a place forgotten by time.

As he looked around the empty hall, Oscar readied his weapon. He saw Unai standing in the middle of the room and frowned in confusion. “I know you can contort your body however you want, but can you really pass through the amber, too?”

“Lady Leonora created me and this castle,” Unai answered.

“And what a loyal follower you are. You still obey that woman even though you’re not human anymore?” Oscar inquired.

“She saved me when I was on the verge of death. That was when she gave me this body,” Unai replied, gazing down at his sickle hand. In his eyes was all the nostalgia of someone who had lived a very long time. It didn’t matter whether Oscar understood or not.

A frown crossed Oscar’s handsome face, but he quickly assumed a combative stance. “Sorry, but if I don’t get out fast, my cat’s going to lose her temper.”

“There’s no need to rush. You have all the time in the world. Just live inside this castle and never change,” said Unai.

“As one of her collectibles? No thanks, I’ll pass,” Oscar shot back.

A foreboding of death filled the glimmering hall, so reminiscent of a child’s jewelry box.

It was utterly silent on the top floor of the petrified castle.

This was where the people who had fled the wartime destruction of the Dark Age had gathered. Yet true peace descended upon the place only when Leonora sealed the palace in amber. Free from the fear of death, the structure could go on forever, unchanging. By the witch’s hands, it had been preserved in all its beauty.

Leonora walked through the glittering throne room, accompanied by two of her demon followers.

Thrilled over her victory against Tinasha, she felt a brief rush of exhilaration.

Once it had faded, there was only apathy. Somewhere along the way, that had become her constant. Leonora was bored to tears. She’d lost interest in the world, and everything had gotten so annoying.

The witch reached the stone throne and flopped onto it languidly.

“Poor, pitiful girl,” she muttered triumphantly, though the words felt hollow. A smile twisted her red lips.

No one could take a hit like that dead-on. Such was the fate she deserved for growing fond of a mortal.

It had been a fun game.

Leonora had inserted herself into the downfalls of many a country and many a mortal, but of all her distractions, this had been her favorite. Tinasha was strong, beautiful, foolish, and young—the ultimate opponent. And, of course, it was fun because she’d won the game.

But…the more fun a game was, the more despondency she was left with afterward.

Once all her passion and enthusiasm evaporated, a sense of meaninglessness—like sinking into a bottomless ocean—gripped the woman.

It was no different from the day her home and childhood went up in flames.

“…Elou, my sister.”

She closed her eyes and recalled memories of a day in the past, long, long ago.

After she’d lost her parents in the attack on that snowy day, an older male cousin took guardianship of Elou.

Her older twin had disappeared, and when Elou learned that her sibling had been killed like their parents, she was overcome with loneliness.

Still, she tried to live optimistically. She did as her cousin recommended and agreed to marry him when she was of age and inherited her father’s lands. A peaceful life should have awaited her.

When had she learned that her existence was all a lie?

Was it upon learning that her cousin had secretly sent soldiers out to the old woman’s cottage? Or maybe when her older twin, Leonora, who had been living there, burst into the castle, drenched in blood? It could also have been after Elou discovered that it was none other than her cousin who had orchestrated the death of her parents and sister so that he could wed her.

Elou’s wedding dress was stained crimson. Her other half lay flat on the ground before her.

“Leonora! Leonora, my sister, stay with me! Don’t leave me!” Elou cried.

After ten years, the twins had at last reunited, only for one to be left behind again.

That was why, desperately, she reached out to take her dying sister’s magic, her soul, her memories—so they could become one again, just as they once were in the womb.

And so Elou became Leonora.

Or did Leonora become Elou?

Leonora pressed her ivory-white fingers against her face.

She’d quit asking the meaningless question of which girl she was a long time ago.

When she combined two people into one and summoned the highest-ranking demon to remake her body for revenge…her mind had been in such a haze of pain and bitterness that it felt nearly shattered.

That was how she’d become a witch.

She was free now, and there was no need to be fettered with hatred. All that mattered was to pursue her own fancy.

With blank eyes, she gazed at the hall. Unconsciously, she whispered, “…I might as well have been the one to die.”

Fatigue weighed heavy on Leonora. Suddenly, a powerful wave of sleep gripped her.

Leonora covered her heavy eyelids—but just then, she felt a vibration from downstairs.

Unai must still be fighting. With a scowl, she got to her feet. “That little gnat who doesn’t know his place… I’ll tear him to pieces.”

The demons flanking the witch bowed.

While he might be the swordsman of Akashia, in this castle, Leonora was the absolute ruler. She concentrated, reaching out with her mind to locate him.

No sooner had she done so than her two attending demons were abruptly blown to smithereens.

Not a drop of blood was left—just black specks floating in the air.

The witch looked up in astonishment. There was a hole in the ceiling, and an ebon-haired witch was dropping in through it. The right side of Tinasha’s body was burned hideously red, but when she spoke, it was in a clear voice that did not indicate any pain. “Who did you say you killed?”

Tinasha gave a small grin so laden with anger it seemed to burn.

“…Damn you…”

Leonora had seen such fury before, though Tinasha’s bloodlust was far, far keener and sharper. Leonora felt outmatched.

Tinasha extended an inviting hand.

“I’ll make you regret that you ever became a witch,” she growled in a voice as sweet as lethal poison.

Tinasha let her eyes flutter nearly closed. She was in a trance as the emotions governing her whole body took over.

Her enemy stood before her—only a trifling thing.

She wanted to kill her.

She could kill her.

She had the power to do so.

Power gathered in her body. The whole world aligned with her drive to destroy. The hall inside the castle locked in amber creaked and groaned. The power to wipe away the desert and all that sat upon it was coalescing in Tinasha’s palms.

Tinasha was about to cast a simple spell to pour that magic into when she realized the ribbon tied to her left arm had come undone. She noticed it lying on the floor and paused.

“…Oscar.”

A small drop of water became a wave. Her composure came back to her like the tide coming in. Tinasha abandoned her spell and let the power fade back.

I can’t do that. Everyone would die.

She had explicitly avoided getting overly involved with people so that she wouldn’t destroy them in her anger.

Wielding that power now would be like rendering her decision to choose Oscar a mistake. And it would make him into an idiot king for selecting her, something Tinasha refused to do.

Leonora was staring at her suspiciously. “What’s wrong?”

Tinasha answered bluntly. “I decided to stop hating you.”

“…Why? You have all that power. You’re so…”

Beautiful, Leonora almost admitted, but she held her tongue. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to say such a thing. This black-haired woman was her enemy.

Tinasha didn’t answer Leonora’s question.

In the dark abyss of her eyes, there was no longer resentment nor glee. Instead, there resided a silent glow like a lake in the night—the light of the soul. Tinasha’s eyes closed as she took a deep breath in.

Then, slowly, she opened them and smiled. “I’m going to beat you. No more close calls. Come with me, and I’ll play with you.”

Leonora’s eyes bulged. Hatred surged in those green orbs.

Tinasha met those flames of emotion with a bemused, helpless smile.

Shortly after entering the Amber Castle, Oscar could sense that some sort of violent collision had happened somewhere above. His protective barrier had wavered along with it.

Unai picked up on the same thing and gave Oscar a half smile. “Looks like the Witch of the Azure Moon has no way out, either. It’s just you left.”

“Oh yeah?” Oscar retorted, advancing on his opponent. Unai’s sickle met Akashia.

No matter what Unai said, Oscar was growing less worried by the second. He knew Tinasha wasn’t dead. He could feel the familiar sensation of her protection on him, the same as it always was.

Still, she certainly could be careless when it came to herself. It was possible she was injured, and the last thing anyone needed was her falling into blind fury. Oscar wanted to check on how she was doing before things reached a deadlock.

“Now, what to do about it…,” he murmured as he swung his sword. Akashia’s sharp, glittering blade cut off Unai’s sickle. However, the thing regrew immediately, just as it had before. “I feel like I’m fighting an octopus or a squid.”

I suppose it’s a good thing that he can’t use magic himself, but I’d honestly prefer to go up against a powerful mage, thought Oscar. His musing came to an abrupt end when something above caught his attention.

He sensed magic gathering somewhere near the top of the castle, beyond the high atrium.

It easily dwarfed the considerable blast from earlier. This was so massive that it could wipe out everything if unleashed.

“Tinasha…”

He didn’t need to think about who was responsible. It was his witch.

She was calling up more than enough magic to eradicate the castle. But after it was all over, she and Oscar would be the only ones remaining.

Unai came slashing at him, and he dodged and leaped back. As he did, he untied the ribbon fastened around his left arm. As he struck back at Unai, he repelled that monstrous sickle.

I know that got through to her just now.

That would be enough. The two had fought enough battles together for Oscar to be confident of that.

He suddenly became aware that he was smiling, and Unai frowned at him. “Gone mad, have you?”

“No, I just know something you don’t,” Oscar answered.

“Oh?”

The roof of the atrium was blasted open. Amid a rain of rubble and amber, a shadow descended.

Light as a feather, she set herself down next to Oscar.

The witch in ebon, beautiful no matter how many injuries she sustained.

Oscar patted the head of his beloved and grinned. “She doesn’t lose to anyone.”

The Witch of the Azure Moon landed from the top floor of the castle, flipping her long hair back lightly over one shoulder.

Before her touched down the Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned. Leonora glared at the two of them hatefully. “How dare you two…?”

“She looks pretty mad, Tinasha. And how did you get those burns?” Oscar inquired.

“I’ll heal them later, sorry,” Tinasha replied, her reaction unfazed—perhaps she was anesthetizing the pain of the terrible scorches that dotted the right half of her body.

It was actually the unscathed Leonora who appeared more dangerous at the moment.

Oscar sized up the two witches and said to Tinasha, “So you’re going to start all over? She doesn’t have any injuries, so I’m guessing you weren’t able to overcome her healing abilities.”

“Yes, sorry, it’s exactly as you’ve guessed. This castle was also completely beyond what I anticipated,” she answered tartly.

“No, no, I’m in the same boat as you. I don’t mind,” Oscar admitted reasonably, flashing her a soft smile.

Leonora beheld the pair with open scorn. “You’re supposed to be a witch, and you’re acting like a child. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“That’s your opinion. It’s because I have him that I can be a good, honest person,” Tinasha replied.

“Good? Honest? What are you even saying? You’re a witch. That’s ridiculous.” Leonora sniffed.

“You know, for all that, you’re the one throwing a fit like an infant,” Oscar pointed out, poking holes in Leonora’s haughty attitude.

For a moment, her face screwed up in a scowl. Coldly, she whispered, “Silence. I hate men like you the most.”

“I never intended on negotiating with you, either,” Oscar quipped back, stepping forward with Akashia in hand. When Unai saw that, he moved to guard his lady.

Tinasha whispered in a voice only Oscar could hear. “Leonora will heal almost any attack as soon as it lands. The castle also amplifies her magic, so a drawn-out battle puts us at a disadvantage.”

He’d already known about the first part. The king’s witch sighed and went on. “What I need is to land one fatal blow. Which is why…”

Oscar listened to the rest, his face giving nothing away.

Unai took a step forward, clearly opening hostilities.

Charm infused Leonora’s voice as she drawled, “I’m going to put an end to this very soon. All of it. By my hand.”

With that, the final conflict began.

Leonora wove a spell.

This castle was functionally a magical reserve Leonora had created for herself. It was like a gem that lay dormant, cut off from the flow of time, containing the souls of all the people who rotted away in obscurity here.

The structure’s reemergence had released butterfly bloodstones all over the place.

No matter what kind of spell she wove, she wouldn’t want for magic at all.

Tinasha was called the strongest because she had immense magical reserves to draw on, but she couldn’t claim that advantage in the Amber Castle.

Which was why Leonora called up a powerful attack spell—but then she paused in surprise. She had thought Tinasha would be doing the same thing, yet she was attacking Leonora with her sword.

Before the attack could connect, Unai was in front of his master. Tinasha’s slender blade met the man’s sickle, and he knocked her off her feet easily. She went flying, but without a moment’s delay, Oscar struck with Akashia.

Fury flaring up in Leonora, she yelled, “Where do you think you’re looking, brat?!”

“Yeah, I see it,” said Tinasha.

Leonora’s finished spell burst apart. Tinasha used short-range teleportation to appear next to her, thin sword raised and ready.

“You should die already.”

Leonora thought of her as a poor, pitiful girl.

She was the sole survivor of the Magic Empire, destroyed in one night. When Leonora heard about this former potential queen who had come into a vast amount of magical power and survived, she could guess what had happened.

This child was just like her. Betrayal had made her into a witch. That was why she was a slave to revenge. It was incredibly tragic.

She should set herself free, live the way she pleased. Surely both women had enough power to exist free as birds.

However, Tinasha didn’t do that. Very stubbornly, she lived like a captive. And as she did, she was beautiful.

That was why Leonora hated her. She was a complete eyesore.

“…Ngh! Little brat!”

The blade nicked Leonora’s right ear.

The pain was excruciating, but she was used to it. She didn’t even need to concentrate, and the wound would heal.

Leonora teleported backward, dodging the attack. At the same time, Unai was battling the wielder of the royal sword.

She had lived for so very long.

By the time she’d encountered Unai, she’d existed for close to four centuries. When she thought back to that meeting and wondered why she’d saved an imprisoned man on the verge of death, she always concluded that it had been because he was similar to her.

The flames of revenge burned in his heart. That was the emotion left to him in the end by those who’d crushed him underfoot. Leonora gave him power and granted him his revenge.

Once he was free, he followed Leonora silently.

How many years had passed since then? Surely it was nearing double the time she’d lived before meeting him.

Tinasha’s attacks were relentless.

None of them inflicted severe wounds on Leonora, but they did drive her little by little over to the edge of the great hall. Irritated with how she couldn’t seize the initiative, Leonora saw red. “You’re so foolish… Everything you do is futile,” the woman spat.

“No, it isn’t,” replied Tinasha, the point of her sword heading right for the other witch. But just before it reached Leonora, she smashed the blade apart.

Metal fragments glittered, refracting golden light. Another weapon, this one a dagger, lanced forward from some unseen place, striking at Leonora’s throat like a serpent. The fast-approaching tip of the blade glowed with a spell.

This was a fierce penetrative attack. Leonora leaped away as soon as she realized as much, but her back hit the wall.

In the next moment, Tinasha’s spell let loose, crushing Leonora and the wall behind her.

Never had she thought she’d like to die. There were times when she’d thought idly, I’d be okay if I died right now, however. She’d grown so dreadfully tired and sick of how the world never changed.

Yet, even so, she didn’t wish to perish. It would make everything she’d done to arrive here for naught.

The fear she’d felt that night in the snow, the shock of losing her older sister, the despair of getting overrun by inhuman beings—she didn’t want to cast any of it away. She had the sense that if she gave in and ended her life, it would render worthless both the Leonora who hated everything and the Leonora who’d tossed aside that anger.

Thus death was not an option.

She would win and carry on with her slow, lazy life. Things could continue, and she would freely enjoy herself in this nauseating world.

The witch held no regrets about her ways, never once having believed them wrong.

Therefore—

Leonora was thrust through the wall, shattering it, and collapsed in the rubble on the other side.

As soon as she was aware of the pain, her broken limbs and shredded internal organs started to knit back together.

But her thoughts were heated. The pain was reviving a fury she should have half forgotten.

Amid the dancing shards of amber, she could see that Tinasha had retreated far back. Leonora flew forward in pursuit of her. “Did you chicken out, brat?!”

“Of course not,” answered Tinasha, and she pointed up at the ceiling. What remained of the upper portion of the castle was smashed apart.

Overhead was a clear blue sky. The sun’s rays shone in.

Clear tinkling sounds poured down from above along with a rain of countless tiny, glittering pieces of amber.

The light and shower of resin made it difficult to see.

Tinasha slid behind the curtain of blinding amber, wanting to draw up a spell while she had the chance.

Unfortunately, it was meaningless for anyone but Leonora to cast anything in this castle. The Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned called up an attack spell in her right hand and thrust her palm out toward what lay past the curtain of shimmering gold. “Die!” she shouted, her voice that of an eager hunter.

Yet her magic didn’t go off. Leonora felt an odd impact and looked down at her chest.

There was Akashia, stuck deep in her breast.

“How?” she whispered, falling to the floor. Her eyes darted all over as she collapsed, wondering what had happened.

She was unable to use her power, so her wounds couldn’t heal. Akashia impaled her, and it was going to end everything.

Leonora located the man lying facedown before Tinasha in the center of the room and called to him. “U…nai…”

She was so cold. It was like she was back in that snow on that night again. All alone, freezing, on the verge of death.

No, she refused to go backward. She’d made so much progress since that day. She’d moved ahead, lived…and now she was growing weary.

The passage of time had done little to make the world a kinder place.

“Unai…I’m going to sleep, just for a bit…”

Leonora closed her eyes.

She reached out a questing hand for someone amid a pool of spreading blood.

“Stay with me…until I…”

The witch hoped that her slumber would bring no dreams.

“…Elou.”

With the name of someone she’d lost long ago on her lips and in her mind, Leonora took her final breath.

“Did everything go okay?” asked Oscar, pulling Akashia out of the witch’s body now that she’d breathed her last.

Tinasha was inspecting Unai’s corpse, but she looked up at Oscar’s inquiry. “Yes, fighting in this hall was perfect for us. So long as we kept the battle here, our victory was assured.”

Tinasha had destroyed the castle’s roof and upper floors and used the falling amber pieces as a smokescreen for her and Oscar to change places. That was why she had deliberately pushed Leonora to one side of the room.

Leonora had lost her cool, irritated over the pain of her injuries and being shoved around. Luring her into retaliating had been a trifle, and that was when she’d suffered a fatal blow from the Mage Killer.

Neither Leonora nor Unai had noticed that their opponents had switched places, and they wound up defeated.

Oscar frowned all over again at Tinasha’s burns. “Hurry up and heal those. It’s painful just to look at them.”

“Urgh, wait a minute,” she responded. Reciting a quiet incantation, she lifted both hands. The remaining parts of the castle began to crumble.

The patch of sky overhead widened. The castle turned to sand and disappeared, just like a child’s game coming to a close. Tinasha took charge of the giant spell banning all summoning and rewrote it slightly.

“Return.”

The camouflaged configuration floated up over the desert. It started to give off a white light until it all focused together skyward, virtually getting sucked up.

At the same time, all the demons Leonora had conjured vanished without a trace.

Als was startled when the demon he was fighting in the corridor abruptly disappeared. He looked all around him, but the enemies were gone. Behind, the mages were equally speechless as the spell they were maintaining was taken from them.

Nearby, Mila had been right about to cut down a high-ranking demon. She giggled.

Near her, Senn sighed. “Well, that took long enough.”

Als looked down at his sword. “Did we…win?”

Next to him, Meredina cocked her head. “…It would appear so.”

Kumu snapped back to himself the fastest and directed the mages to heal the wounded. All at once, there was a new flurry of activity, but Nephelli just gazed out the window at the eastern sky.

So is it all over now?

None of it felt real. She hadn’t done anything.

A dragon’s shadow raced across the ground in the distance. While she was relieved to see it, a sense of loneliness also welled up inside her.

It wasn’t over. Things were only beginning.

Once she returned to the chaotic royal court, she would be the only one who could support her father and brother.

Oscar and Tinasha were greeted by a round of cheers when they arrived back at the fortress.

Tinasha was comforted to hear that there had been no deaths, and Mila latched right on to her. “Lady Tinasha, praise me.”

“Thank you, Mila, you’re very strong,” Tinasha said, patting Mila’s head. The demonic spirit’s eyes closed happily. Senn grabbed her by the collar and dragged her away, and she curtsied before vanishing along with him.

From behind, Oscar dropped a hand onto Tinasha’s head. “I’ll handle the cleanup here. You should change and get some sleep if you want.”

“Okay,” Tinasha replied. While her wounds had been closed, the same could not be said of her clothes. Oscar had given her his jacket to wear. Tinasha thanked a teary-eyed Pamyra for her service before disappearing with her into the fortress.

Oscar watched them go, then turned to Nephelli. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him. “Well, Princess Nephelli, shall we establish an agreed-upon series of events?”

The king spoke quite naturally. Naturally, he’d seen right through her facade. She grimaced, bowed her head, and apologized for her rudeness in lying about her identity. Then she set off alongside Oscar.

Without the sandstorm, the sky looked so peaceful that it almost seemed nostalgic. Nephelli felt so relaxed that she suddenly blurted out something that had been needling at her mind for a while. “Eleven years ago…why did Farsas reject the marriage talks?”

Oscar looked surprised for a moment before he gave an awkward smile. “Apparently, I have strong magical power. No normal woman can bear my child. And I couldn’t bear to kill someone who had wed me to ensure peace simply because I got her pregnant.”

Nephelli’s eyes widened a little when she heard that, but she quickly smiled. It didn’t matter if that was true or not. Any answer at all seemed a weight off her shoulders.

Her life wasn’t meant to be intertwined with his. Their paths had converged a little here, but now they would go their separate ways again.

The countenance of a princess restored, Nephelli thought about what was to come and pulled herself together.

After a light bath to rinse off the blood and sweat, Tinasha changed into ordinary mage’s robes. She felt a familiar presence and smiled. Soon enough, she heard a man say, “Sounds like that was a pretty close fight there. Not as good as you used to be?”

“I couldn’t help it. I was trying out a lot of spells for the first time. Besides, my duel with you was much harder,” she answered.

“You better believe it was,” quipped the silver-haired man, popping into her room with a sneer curling his lips.

Tinasha felt Pamyra tense up and put out a hand to stop her. Travis, the king of the demons, folded his arms and smirked at her. She eyed him as she dried her hair. “Anyway, you’re going to keep your promise, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I will. I won’t lay a finger on Farsas so long as your blood runs in the veins of the royal family,” Travis drawled.

“I actually wish you’d just leave the country alone regardless of my involvement, but…”

“I’d never agree to that. Brazen of you to even ask,” Travis finished.

“Well, I suppose this much is good enough,” Tinasha decided with a smile, adjusting her now-dry hair.

Killing Leonora had been a personal bit of revenge, of course, but Tinasha had also gone through with it because Travis had made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. It wasn’t an easy proposition at all to get him to swear that a living calamity such as he wouldn’t interfere in things—especially if the agreement remained after Tinasha’s death.

No one but Tinasha and Travis knew about their deal, but no one else needed to.

As Tinasha gathered up her hair, Travis asked her, “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to live and die with him. I’ll have to restore my body to the natural flow of time to have children, after all,” she answered.

“I see,” he hummed, sounding uninterested even though he was the one who’d asked. He waved, looking like he was about to go.

Tinasha said, “Give my regards to Aurelia. Tell her thank you.”

“I will,” Travis responded before vanishing without a trace of magic.

Turning around to face Pamyra, Tinasha smiled at her. “That’s one thing settled.”

Pamyra was still astonished at the discussion she’d just witnessed, and she could only sigh in response to her lady’s mischievous grin. Tinasha knew she’d exasperated her attendant, and she cast her gaze out the window.

There was now one fewer witch in the world.

She had no particularly strong feelings about that fact. The word witch was only a term by which women with too much power were exalted over ordinary humans. The title was pointless and conferred no authority or meaning.

Tinasha had no desire to investigate Leonora’s reason for living as a witch or discover what she had sacrificed along the way.

Instead, she was content to merely hold on to the memory of the woman she had known, a trivial fragment of the whole.

Some might call that sentimental, but Tinasha was okay with it.