The soldiers' conversation drifted through the carriage window, sharp and clear in the evening air.
"Well? Any sign of them?"
"Nothing. It's as if they vanished into thin air."
"Check every street! Search every house! And all the roads leading into the city—leave nothing unchecked!"
"According to the latest reports, they were spotted at a hotel in a neighboring town last night. But after that..." The soldier's voice dropped with frustration. "They simply disappeared."
Asella's eyes darted frantically around the carriage's interior. _If I stay here, they'll catch me. It's only a matter of time._
The inspection line crept forward with agonizing slowness, but the number of carriages ahead of the checkpoint was dwindling—inexorably, inevitably. Each one that passed brought her closer to discovery.
_Should I ask the driver to turn around?_
No. That would only arouse suspicion. A carriage abandoning the queue would draw every eye in the vicinity.
_What do I do? **What do I do?**_
Asella peered through the gap in the curtains. The sun hung low on the horizon, bleeding crimson and gold across the sky—almost set. A flicker of hope sparked in her chest.
She recalled what the coachman had mentioned earlier: the city was surrounded by mountains and dense, impenetrable forest. Building fortress walls had been deemed pointless when nature itself provided such formidable barriers. And indeed, the road carved directly through the heart of towering peaks, their dark silhouettes rising like sentinels against the fading light.
_If I can reach that mountain..._
The landscape beyond the window looked hostile—jagged rock faces, tangled undergrowth, shadows pooling thick and black between the trees. Night was falling fast.
But there was no other choice.
_Even if I can't pass through the checkpoint, I can wait it out in the mountains. Buy myself time. They can't search for me forever._
Asella studied the space outside carefully, watching the soldiers' movements, counting the seconds between their patrols.
_Now._
The moment the sun dipped fully below the horizon, she eased the carriage door open. No soldiers in sight—they had moved further up the line, checking documents and questioning travelers.
Asella slipped out, moving with painstaking care to avoid alerting the driver. The wheels continued their slow roll forward; he noticed nothing.
The line moved so sluggishly that passengers frequently stepped out of their carriages to stretch their legs or breathe the evening air. Asella mimicked them, strolling casually alongside the road, her posture relaxed, her expression bored—just another traveler killing time.
Then, when the darkness had grown thick enough to swallow her, she simply melted into the trees.
Once she had put sufficient distance between herself and the road, she _ran_.
---
## — The Temple of Gevium —
A somber atmosphere hung over the Great Hall of the Daesijeon in the Sacred Autonomous Prefecture of Gevium. The weight of it pressed down on everyone who entered, heavy as a funeral shroud.
Today, two more high-ranking priests had been found dead in their cells.
Father Roshan and Judith had endured an exhausting ten days. They worked without rest—examining the bodies with meticulous care, conducting the funerals with proper solemnity, then suppressing every whisper and rumor of possible murder before the information could leak beyond the Temple walls.
But all of that paled in comparison to the questions that remained unanswered.
Judith sat rigidly in her chair, her brow furrowed, lost in thoughts darker than the shadows gathering in the corners of the hall.
"Your Holiness," Roshan said gently, watching her with concern, "you need to rest. Even if only for a few hours."
"No." Her voice was clipped, brittle. "Now is not the time. We've already lost _five_ priests."
"Still, it would be wise to—"
"**Damn it!**" Judith slammed her palm against the armrest and surged to her feet. She paced the length of the room, her fingers rising to her mouth—she bit at her nails, which were already gnawed nearly to the quick.
"I don't understand. _How_ is this possible?" She spun to face Roshan, her eyes wild with frustration. "Any black magic—**any** dark spell—can be detected by divine power. Yet none of these five noticed anything. _Nothing._ Are we to believe that not a single one of them sensed a curse powerful enough to kill them completely?"
She remembered the bodies. One by one, their faces surfaced in her mind—the skin on their heads and chests blackened, charred as if scorched from within.
A shudder crawled down her spine.
It was unmistakably the mark of **witchcraft**—a spell that seized control of the mind and drained the life force until nothing remained but an empty husk.
"The marks on their bodies prove that our enemy is extraordinarily dangerous," Judith continued, her voice dropping. "But _who?_ Who is our enemy?"
"It's impossible for an ordinary person to sustain magic of that magnitude," Roshan said slowly, choosing his words with care. "The energy required would be... immense. Perhaps it's—"
"I'm afraid to guess, Teacher."
"Do you think this is..."
"The **Emperor**." The word fell from her lips like a stone dropped into still water.
Roshan inhaled deeply. He felt as though he were being pulled into the heart of an uncontrollable storm—nothing ahead but howling wind and impenetrable darkness.
"The investigation at the Magic Tower is still ongoing," he said at last. "Let us wait before drawing conclusions."
His gaze drifted to Judith's desk—a massive wooden table that could comfortably seat six, now buried beneath a mountain of unread correspondence.
"Did you receive a letter from the capital's church?"
The most important documents always lay on top.
"Isn't this a report on the state of the slums?" He reached for the topmost envelope.
"No." Judith shook her head. "That one bears the seal of His Majesty's chancery."
Roshan picked up a letter opener and slit the envelope with practiced precision. He unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the elegant calligraphic lines.
As he read, the color drained from his face. His expression grew increasingly strained—tight, horrified—until finally his hand dropped to his side, the paper hanging limply from his fingers.
"Teacher?" Judith stepped closer, alarmed. "What is it? What happened?"
She took the letter from him.
The moment her eyes fell upon its contents, her hands began to tremble.
"The Charts family was... **destroyed?** Treason?" She looked up at the priest, her face blank with shock. "What does this mean?"
"How is this possible?" she breathed. "The Charts are the _foundation_ of the Empire. Their contributions to the state are immeasurable! Moreover, they possess abilities bestowed by **Gernia herself**. How could anyone do such a thing to them?"
"But that ability no longer exists within the Charts bloodline," Roshan said quietly, having recovered some measure of composure. "Not anymore. Not since..."
He did not finish the sentence. He did not need to.
_Not since Adele._
Judith stood frozen in the center of the room, paralyzed by the weight of what she had just learned.
There had been a sacred bond between the Temple and the Charts family—ancient, unbreakable. After Adele's death, that bond had been severed. But the people of the Empire still believed it existed. They still looked to the Charts as holy, as protected.
"I knew the Emperor was hostile to the Temple," Judith whispered. "But I never imagined he would go this far."
"If he wished to destroy the Charts," Roshan added with a heavy sigh, "there could not have been a more opportune moment. The Temple has lost one of its wings—irrevocably."
"And what of Asella and Mariel?" Judith's voice rose, cracking with anguish. "What will happen to those girls now?"
"As long as they remain in the principality, they are safe."
"**Safe?**" Judith thrust the letter toward him, her eyes blazing. "It says here that **Calix Benvito** personally carried out the Emperor's orders! How can you possibly trust that cruel man?"
"Calm yourself, Judith. The Archduke will not harm them."
"How can you believe that?"
"Because Mariel saw his **golden stream**."
"A golden stream of affection?" Judith paused, considering. Then she shook her head violently. "No. I cannot rely on that. The human heart is _fickle_. If this man truly loved Asella, would he have been capable of destroying her family?"
Her voice hardened with resolve.
"We must go to the Principality of Benvito immediately. We need to see the situation for ourselves."
"You cannot," Roshan said firmly. "Protocol requires an official invitation. And before that, you must publicly announce your visit. Without those formalities—"
"We don't have _time_ for formalities!" Judith snapped. "Those children are in danger!"
"**Your Holiness!**"
A young novice burst through the doors of the hall, his robes flying behind him, his face flushed and damp with sweat.
Judith, who had been on the verge of storming out, turned back in bewilderment.
The young man was so out of breath he could barely speak. He bent double, hands braced on his knees, gasping for air.
"Your Holiness... forgive me... but... it's urgent."
"What has happened?"
The novice straightened, swallowed hard, and finally managed to blurt out the words:
"There—in the temple. A girl! She came through the portal!"
---
## — The Hunt —
"She was traveling with a child. The girl fell ill, so I called for a doctor." The innkeeper's face had gone so pale it looked almost gray. "After that, she asked me to prepare meals—several times. I cooked them myself and brought the trays directly to their room. That's... that's all I know."
It was not merely the heavily armed soldiers who had burst into his establishment that terrified him. It was the man who now stood before him, conducting the interrogation personally.
**The Archduke himself.**
Calix's eyes were cold, predatory. His voice cut like a blade.
"When did they leave?"
"Well... it was already quite late... I believe..." The innkeeper's words stumbled and died under the crushing weight of Calix's presence. The man's aura radiated barely contained violence, and the innkeeper felt his throat closing with terror.
"**Six o'clock!**" he suddenly screamed, the words tearing free in a desperate rush. "It was six in the evening! Exactly! I remember because she had requested dinner for the girl beforehand—six o'clock precisely!"
His entire being radiated a single, desperate desire: _to survive this_.
"Where is the room they stayed in?"
"Oh—please, allow me to show you." The innkeeper scrambled toward the stairs, practically tripping over his own feet in his haste.
_Thank the gods they left early_, he thought, a chill racing down his spine. He did not want to imagine what would have happened to his guests if they had been caught.
Nevertheless, he bowed politely and opened the door to the room.
"Right here, Your Highness. This is where they stayed."
Calix dismissed him with a single sharp gesture. The innkeeper bent nearly in half with relief and vanished down the corridor in an instant.
"She may return," Calix said to his men without turning. "Do not let your guard down."
"Yes, Your Highness!" The soldiers immediately dispersed throughout the hotel courtyard, taking up positions at every entrance and exit.
Leaving Raizen stationed at the door, Calix entered the room alone.
---
His eyes moved slowly across the space.
_This was where she stayed._
Just over a day. She had left in a hurry—that much was clear. And yet, there was no disorder. The bed was unmade, the remains of dinner still sat on the small table, but everything else was neat, orderly.
_Even in flight, she is tidy. Just as she always was._
Three days had passed since the chase began.
He had expected it to end quickly. A woman traveling with a sick child—how far could she possibly go? But Asella had proven far more resourceful than he had anticipated. She left almost no trace. Time and again, their trail would simply... _vanish_, as if she and the girl had dissolved into the air itself.
Only the Karma wizards had kept the pursuit alive. Each time, they struggled to detect the faint wisps of residual magic drifting through the atmosphere, allowing them to determine a direction. Without them, Calix would have lost her completely.
_Such magic is beyond my reach._
His anxiety had grown with every passing hour, mounting until it became unbearable. Things had grown so dire that he had been forced to leave Benvito Fortress and join the search himself.
_Where are you hiding, Asella?_
Calix stood in the center of the empty room, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
He was at his breaking point.
Several times each day, destructive thoughts clawed at the edges of his mind. Thoughts that he might _never_ find her. That she had escaped him for good. He imagined her perfectly content in the arms of another man—some faceless stranger who did not deserve her—and the vision drove him to the edge of madness.
_If it weren't for this damned tea I'm forced to drink every day at the same hour, I would have lost my mind entirely._
He drew in a slow, deliberate breath.
The air was saturated with **her** scent.
It filled his lungs—soft, familiar, _hers_—and the suffocating pressure around his chest eased, just slightly. The worry, the rage, the gnawing anxiety... they did not disappear, but they retreated, if only for a moment.
_Soon._
It was only a matter of time now. The moment her presence had been confirmed in this region, every road leading to nearby towns and villages had been blockaded. She could not leave the principality.
She was trapped.
"Your Highness."
A soldier appeared in the doorway, breathless.
"There's news of Her Highness's whereabouts. The patrol detained a coachman just outside the city gates. He was the last person to see her."
Calix's expression twisted—something between fury and desperate hope—and then he was moving. He shoved past the stunned soldier, flew down the stairs three steps at a time, and burst through the inn's front door.
In one fluid motion, he vaulted onto his horse, seized the reins, and drove his heels into the animal's flanks.
The horse screamed and lunged forward.
Calix rode without thought, without mercy, completely unaware that at this pace he might well run the unfortunate beast into the ground.
---
## — The Mountains —
The coachman knelt in the dirt, trembling violently, his words tumbling out in a terrified, disjointed rush.
"She was in the carriage the whole time, Your Highness—I swear it—but when we arrived at the checkpoint..." He faltered, swallowing hard, his eyes darting to Calix's face and away again. "She was... she was simply _gone_."
Just hours ago, he had been delighted by his generous passenger—a noblewoman who paid in gold without haggling. Now he was not certain he would survive the night.
But Calix paid the cowering man little attention.
His gaze had turned toward the mountains.
They rose in the distance, their peaks swallowed by the deep black of night. Torches already flickered among the slopes—dozens of them, perhaps hundreds—disturbing the peace of the sleeping peaks as soldiers combed through every shadow and crevice.
"Raizen. Report."
Lord Cardon stepped forward immediately, his voice crisp and efficient.
"We've calculated the search radius based on the time frame the driver provided. All dangerous areas—cliffs, ravines, unstable ground—have been secured and blocked. We're tightening the perimeter as we speak. Soon, she'll have nowhere left to run." He paused, then added with careful optimism, "Just a little longer, Your Highness. I believe good news will arrive shortly."
"**No.**"
The word fell from Calix's lips like the crack of a whip.
_Wait?_
What nonsense.
He could not wait another moment. He _would_ not.
He was at his limit now—**truly**, irrevocably at his limit.
---