Epsilon's eyes scanned the blinding white expanse. In Triwheel, the air hung heavy with the metallic tang of blood, a stench mingling with the biting wind. Twisted wyvern carcasses lay frozen, grotesque monuments amidst the silent field of fallen humans. He knelt, fingers numb, searching each lifeless face, but Keith was nowhere to be found.
He isn't here.
Epsilon wondered—did that mean Keith was still alive? There was no sign of his body. A hollow, unnameable feeling welled up within him as he stood unmoving, staring blankly at the snow.
Could he still be alive?
He bit his lip so hard that it drew blood. Keith was always the one to raise the banner of death, always willing to gamble his life without hesitation.
Epsilon closed his eyes, allowing memories from the past to surge forth.
**
"Stop!"
Keith plunged into the whirling chaos of magic, a visual storm of sparks and shimmering energy. A blizzard of debris; the rasp of wood, the clang of metal, and the sharp bite of unseen shards struck Epsilon, caught in the vortex. He was numb and couldn't move. Darkness closed in, and a muffled world remained, with only a voice audible in the distance.
"Stop this…!"
Through the storm, he saw him. Keith. Even in a space where moving was nearly impossible, the man pushed forward, step by step, toward him.
"End this now, Great Magician."
His torn, bloodied body ached, yet he smiled, a horrifying sight. Pointless. The metallic tang of blood filled the air. Death loomed. Epsilon's lips moved, a silent scream trapped. He could not move. Keith, face contorted in pain, reached him, forcing a smile.
"You must end it. I know you can. Breathe… then let's get out of here together."
He extended his hand.
Epsilon strained, muscles screaming as he lifted his arm, desperate to grasp that hand. The air crackled, a sharp ozone smell stinging his nostrils. Just as their fingertips brushed, Keith was ripped away. A roaring vacuum swallowed him, flinging him into a dizzying spin. Then—nothing.
When he awoke, he was at Hemser's estate now, with Cynthia at his side. She smiled softly, comforting him, praising him.
The truth, however, soon reached him: the Northern region had been destroyed, and countless lives were lost.
Keith was among them—the knight who had served Leyla. They discovered his blood and torn clothing near the wind disaster site, but they never found his body.
It was then that Epsilon recalled the truth: how he had lost control, releasing a mana burst that annihilated everything around him.
He had even killed Keith.
"You don't need to dwell on it… they'll never have proof to accuse you. So don't worry," Cynthia's voice buzzed in his ears, dull and hollow.
"This wasn't your fault. In fact, you did well. Thanks to you, Leyla's pain will consume her until she begs for death… and I finally have Xerta back. Well done, Epsilon."
She kissed his hair, smiling.
With empty eyes, Epsilon forced a smile.
If it's for Cynthia… then I'll accept it. I willingly go to hell.
He pushed the memory aside and turned away from the snow.
**
"You're back?"
Xerta's voice greeted him when he returned to the estate.
"He wasn't there," Epsilon said curtly.
"Are you certain?"
He lowered his head, glancing at Rubert, who was still gasping for breath despite his bandaged wounds.
"I saw two men in black masks. I assume they were yours."
"Yes… I left them with Sir Keith…" Rubert's voice trailed off.
"They're dead."
Silence fell. Rubert froze, and even Xerta's face showed disbelief.
"Then Keith…" Xerta murmured.
"He wasn't there! I didn't see his body. I'm certain he's still—"
Epsilon clenched his fists.
Not certain… Just because I didn't see his body doesn't mean he's alive.
Leyla's hoarse voice broke through."I believe Keith survived. But we can't just sit here. We must search—for him, for His Grace Nicholas, and for Sera!"
Her optimism is something I admire.
Xerta gave a small nod. "I'll prepare to leave."
"This time, let me come as well," Leyla said firmly. "I will be of help."
Xerta hesitated. "About that—"
"Continue your discussion. I'll handle matters outside," Epsilon said, stepping toward the door. Xerta and Leyla followed.
Outside, a fresh wave of wyverns swept in from the southeast.
"Damn it, still not done!"
"I see their boss," Epsilon said, his eyes glowing with magic sight.
Xerta thought grimly, 'He can see it even from here.'
"I'll kill it." Without another word, Epsilon teleported away.
"I think he's near his limit. Just how vast is his mana capacity…?" Xerta muttered.
"Xerta…" Leyla tugged faintly at his sleeve, pulling him back to the present.
He turned cold eyes toward the wyvern that had landed before them, drew his blade, and aimed it forward.
"Don't worry, Leyla. I could use a little venting."
He lunged, creating footholds of magic to climb onto the wyvern's back before driving his sword deep into its flesh.
Another wyvern swooped in, but Xerta dodged swiftly, gathering mana into his hand and unleashing a slash that carved through its side.
"Tch, not deep enough."
He fell from the wyvern's back but twisted midair, driving his sword into the ground to brace himself.
"Leyla, get back!"
He shouted as another wyvern's claw came crashing down toward her. He shoved her aside, taking the blow himself.
The weight crushed his back, pain exploding through his body. Blood dripped from his lips.
"Xerta!"
He looked at Leyla calmly, urging her with his eyes not to scream. Though panic showed on her face, she clamped her mouth shut.
Two wyverns loomed before her, roaring with savage delight.
'I'm scared…'Leyla thought.
'If this continues, Xerta will…'
Xerta strained to reach his sword buried in the earth, but the pressure on his back only worsened.
"Kh…!"
'Xerta!!'
Leyla's eyes widened in terror. She looked back—the mansion doors were still open. If she could just pull Xerta inside, they would be safe.
"Hey!" she shouted at the wyverns, forcing a brave smile. "Come at me if you dare!"
The beast roared and lifted its claw from Xerta, ready to strike her.
"Now!" She crouched, grabbed Xerta's arm, and dragged him back toward the door.
"Josh! Help!"
"At once, Lady Leyla!" Josh rushed forward, hauling Xerta inside. Leyla tried to follow, but her gown snagged.
The wyvern's claw pierced through the fabric, yanking her back. She stretched desperately toward the doorway, fury burning in her eyes.
With one fierce motion, she tore the gown free, sprinted inside, and slammed the door shut, pressing her back against it.
"Lady Leyla, are you unharmed?" Yeri cried, rushing to her.
Panting, she sank to her knees, crawling toward the unconscious Xerta.
"Xerta!" She shook him, frantic. He didn't stir.
'N-no… please no…'
Tears streamed down her face. 'Why is this happening? Is it my fault? Am I cursed?'
"Lady Leyla!" Josh's alarmed voice cut through.
"Your hand—it's glowing!"
She looked down. Her palm was radiant, unfamiliar light spilling from it.
"What is this…?"
The glow spread, enveloping Xerta's body in a brilliant gold, dazzling everyone present.
Driven by instinct, Leyla felt a surge of energy as visions flickered before her: the church explosion, where golden light had shielded her, and the dream before her wedding, which featured her own determined face.
"You must avenge it, Leyla! Avenge Keith's death!"
Her own voice echoed in her mind. Then, with a blink, the vision was gone.
The light faded. Xerta stirred, his eyes fluttering open.
"Leyla…"
"Xerta! Are you alright?"
He slowly sat up, only to be pulled into Leyla's arms as she embraced him tightly.
Those around them averted their eyes, embarrassed.
Xerta froze, awkward under her sudden affection.
However, Xerta brushed the feeling aside and held Leyla's shoulders."I'm fine. Can you explain what just happened?"
Leyla fell silent, sniffling as she looked around. The others seemed just as bewildered by what they had witnessed.
"It seems… I was the one who healed you," she said softly.
"You? What do you mean?"
"I… I'll explain, Lord Xerta," Yeri raised her hand. "Lady Leyla released a magical light from her palm and then—swuish!—she directed it at you, and then—fwohh!—the light shone brightly, wrapping around you, and after that, you woke up."
Xerta blinked twice at Yeri's peculiar explanation.
"To put it simply, my lord," Josh cut in, "Lady Leyla seems to have manifested the same holy power used by the Church's saints. I happened to know one, Eliot Inggrid. It seems Lady Leyla is a Saintess."
Leyla froze, astonishment written on her face. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.
Me? A Saintess? Impossible.
"Leyla…" Xerta looked at her, his eyes gleaming with admiration.
"If you're still not convinced, perhaps we should have Lady Leyla demonstrate again. Conveniently, Sir Rubert's condition is… less than ideal," Josh suggested.
"Can you do it, Leyla?"
"…I'll try."
Nodding, Leyla stepped toward Rubert and raised her hand over him. Nothing happened.
"…"
She tried again, focusing harder, but still no light appeared. No reaction, no glow.
She stared down at her palm, repeating the same motion over and over.
'Why won't it work?'
"Leyla… stop."
"Wait, Xerta, let me try again."
She extended her hand once more, but Xerta grasped her wrist.
"That's enough."
Her strength drained. She could not summon the light from before again. The only thing left was the memory of strange glimpses she had seen earlier, fragments she didn't understand.
'If I focus on those visions…'
Leyla closed her eyes, recalling the glimpses. She gripped Xerta's hand tightly, as if drawing strength from him.
Then suddenly—she was standing elsewhere.
A place she knew all too well. Darkness cloaked the surroundings, but she recognized it instantly.
Her home. The Nerwine estate.
There was Rajir, consumed by anger and regret, weeping as he stroked a wooden sword.
That sword—Leyla remembered it. The one she had given to Keith. The one he had trained with. The one he held when he swore his oath to be her knight.
Meanwhile, in reality, Xerta saw Leyla's hand begin to glow once again. His eyes widened in shock, then in awe.
She truly is a Saintess.
The light grew stronger, forcing Xerta to shield his eyes. Brighter. Ever brighter.
"Wait, Leyla—what are you doing?!" he shouted.
The radiance peaked, and then in an instant, it vanished.
As his vision cleared, Rubert's wounds were gone—completely healed.
"Leyla! You did it!"
Thud.
Leyla collapsed, unconscious.
**
"I cannot believe it…" Rajir's voice trembled with grief as he clutched the wooden sword. "You mean to tell me… Keith is gone?"
His whole body shook, tears streaming endlessly.
'Again. Again I'm trapped… unable to move this body as I wish.'
"Even now, in such dire straits, this news—another cruel blow…"
"What about Father, Rajir?" Leyla asked, desperate.
Rajir lowered his head. "His condition has worsened. After hearing the news of Keith, he now lies bedridden, unable to rise."
Leyla covered her mouth, tears spilling out uncontrollably.
"I no longer know what to do." Rajir clenched his fists. "I'll never accept the tragedies that plague Nerwine."
Leyla collapsed to her knees.
"Count Larios won't last much longer," came Yuvri's voice from the corridor outside the Count's chambers.
"The curse has spread further. It's consuming his body."
"Why won't you let me help?!" Leyla shouted, her voice raw. "I'm certain I can heal him with my holy power!"
Yuvri shook her head."It's useless, my lady. Even the most renowned saints could not dispel this curse."
"We won't know until I try!" Leyla screamed, as if her very life depended on it.
But Yuvri looked away, unable to face her.
"I will go," Rajir said flatly, standing. His eyes were hollow. "I will search for Keith. Perhaps then we'll find a way to lift Larios's curse."
"Rajir…" Yuvri tried to stop him, but he brushed her hand aside.
"Everything will return to how it was… won't it, my lady?" Yuvri broke down in tears, unable to hold it in anymore. "Sir Keith will come back… the Count will recover… we'll be happy again, won't we?"
Leyla could only watch in agony, unable to move her body at will, trapped within the painful scene, left to cry helplessly.
Without warning, she was ejected from the area and into the darkness. Only her own reflection remained.
"Do you remember?"
"Wh-what? You're speaking…" Leyla whispered in confusion.
"Everything that destroyed you. Everything that cast you into despair."
"Who are you? You… you look like me."
"I am you. Remember it all, Leyla… The things that broke you. The things that will break the world. The one who killed them. Make sure they suffer the same fate."
"You… you're terrifying. I never wanted this."
"That's because you haven't seen it yet. But you will. Eventually, you'll understand."
Leyla stared at the version of herself before her—eyes empty, yet blazing with determination. A self she no longer recognized.
Twisting again, her vision shifted, hurling her into an unfamiliar scene that nonetheless caused her profound inner turmoil.
Her father lay pale in a coffin, ready for burial. Yuvri wept beside the coffin.
Meanwhile, there's no news about Rajir.
This time, Leyla could move his own body.
"Yuvri, what's happening? What's going on?"
"My lady… the Count…" Yuvri sobbed uncontrollably.
'Why? Is this real? Why?'
Ahead, Xerta approached. His expression was calm, uncaring.
"I received word of the Count's passing today. My condolences, Leyla." He touched her shoulder gently.
"And just weeks ago, you lost your knight…"
"This isn't true. It can't be real. This is just an illusion, isn't it?" Leyla clutched his arm desperately.
"Leyla… go home. There's no use in clinging to this. You must face reality."
"What do you mean, Xerta? Why would you say that? Stop looking at me like that!" Leyla screamed, her voice breaking. Onlookers at the funeral turned in shock.
"Leyla…" Xerta gripped her arm, leaning close to whisper in her ear. "Why are you like this? Don't torment yourself. Come back to me."
"And what about my father? What about Nerwine?"
"What matters most is you. Under our contract, I will protect you. Be patient until I find the mastermind. If you act like this here, your credibility will plummet. After all, you already cried out before the king, demanding an inquiry into Keith's death. Do you really want them to think you've gone mad?"
Leyla's eyes widened in disbelief. None of this matched the Xerta she knew. Nothing around her felt real.
'Is this… the truth?'
She stared at his face, then shoved him away.
"You're not Xerta. This is all a dream—I just have to wake up!"
"Wait, Leyla!"
She seized Xerta's sword and drove it through herself. Blood poured out as her vision blurred. She lifted her head, seeing Xerta's face twisted in panic.
Then everything went dark.