A snow-laden wind fiercely poured into the room through the broken window. It was the topmost room of the Ice Castle, where the floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of ice. Ice shards carried by the wind literally tore at the skin.
Lofin stood with a sword in one hand. Blood flowed down his face from a cut on his cheek caused by the ice shards.
Next to Lofin, Meylumil stood holding a spear. Blood from his shoulder dripped to the floor, melting the ice before quickly freezing again.
In front of them, Tailed’s staff pushed back the darkness that even moonlight couldn’t penetrate, illuminating the surroundings. He stood at the center of a blue circle drawn on the floor. At the edge of the circle, an old man, emaciated like a mummy, was suspended in mid-air.
Count Shraighton, the mastermind behind the Lontamon War.
“I pay my respects to the great magic, Master Tailed. But it’s futile. No living being can kill me.”
Count Shraighton’s mouth didn’t even move, but his voice resonated. His voice was still full of confidence. Once a kind noble of the northern lands, Count Shraighton had now become something other than human, cursing the world with his destructive magic.
Behind the Grand Master of Lutia and the two knights, Irine knelt, her sword embedded in the floor. The spot where she sat was frozen with her own blood.
“Vena Esarck will break your dark curse.”
Muttering, Irine ran past the three men and struck the old sorcerer. Simultaneously, the old sorcerer wielded his last hidden dark power. Vena’s red flash sliced the old sorcerer’s body, but she also dropped her sword with a scream.
Irine staggered and fell face-first onto the ice floor. Lofin and Meylumil, who had been covering her final attack, rushed to protect her.
“Lumil, cover my back!”
Lofin shouted to Meylumil, who held a spear, as he checked Irine’s injuries. The wound on her pale neck extended to her ribs and stomach. Her once white innards quickly turned red, and the blood that flowed out soaked her abdomen and the floor.
“Irine…”
Tailed, who had cast the seal over the entire castle to bind the old sorcerer, looked at Irine in shock. Lofin pointed to the lord of the Ice Castle, split in two by Vena’s sword.
“Tailed! He’s escaping.”
From the body of the Ice Castle’s lord, presumed dead, black smoke began to rise, writhing like a snake and slipping out through the broken window.
Ignoring Lofin’s urgency, Tailed ran towards Irine. He touched her pale face and said,
“You still have the healing powder I gave you, right? Use it. It will hold her for a while.”
Lofin pulled out a leather pouch from his coat, loosened the string with his teeth, and sprinkled the powder.
Meanwhile, Tailed leapt towards the window where the black smoke had escaped. Hanging by the window, he looked back at Irine in Lofin’s arms. Thanks to the healing powder, Irine barely opened her eyes and reached out to Tailed.
“Don’t go.”
She shook her head, speaking with difficulty.
“I have to finish this.”
Tailed smiled gently.
“I’ll be back soon, Irine.”
Tailed jumped out through the broken window into the raging snowstorm.
That was the last they saw of him.
☆ ☆ ☆
Irine sat up in bed, her forehead damp with sweat. She ran a hand through her short hair, trying to piece together the dream that lingered in her memory.
“How many times am I going to have this dream… like a child…”
Irine opened the curtains and looked outside. The peaceful morning scenery of Nadium unfolded before her.
Thinking about how the army of the resurrected from Excelon had swarmed the White Gate just days ago, this peace seemed like a deception, masking the impending danger. Scratching her disheveled hair, she noticed Quain standing in the room.
“Goodness!”
Startled, she asked with an amused expression,
“Did I ever give you permission to enter my room?”
“Hm, did you not? My memory’s been terrible lately.”
Quain mumbled as he opened a window one pane away from where she stood. The dawn breeze from outside pushed the curtains back. Quain, momentarily hidden in the pink waves, perched on the windowsill.
“I wasn’t ‘there at that time.’ Of course, I don’t know what happened then. But I do know one thing.”
Irine already knew what Quain was about to say.
“The reason you couldn’t slay the ‘Lord of the Undying’ at the White Gate.”
They continued their conversation while looking out at the view of Nadium.
“Don’t be so smug. Do you think you could have done it? And don’t overestimate me. I just wasn’t skilled enough.”
“Her Majesty has a message for you.”
When Quain didn’t speak immediately, Irine urged him on.
“A message?”
“Do as you wish.”
“I’ve always done what I wanted.”
“But you’re not doing it now, are you?”
Irine just looked down at Nadium. She saw the villagers preparing for the end of summer and the maids starting the royal morning in the garden. Quain spoke again.
“Leave. Even the Wolf Knights are preparing. It doesn’t make sense if you don’t move. Her Majesty is telling you to do what you want before she gives a direct order.”
“Nadium isn’t safe. Are you planning to protect it alone again?”
Irine stepped away from the window and approached Quain.
“Or do you see the future just because you’re by Her Majesty’s side?”
“This isn’t a prophecy; it’s a strategic issue. What’s about to happen in Nadium will be incomparable to what happened when you all left for the Ice Castle eight years ago. But I must protect Nadium alone. That’s my duty. You must do yours.”
Irine slowly reached out and hugged Quain around the waist.
“Quain, I’ve committed too many sins against you. It was I who forced you into Lofin’s position, and then I piled on even more burdens. I can’t leave you here alone.”
Quain patted Irine’s back.
“I am the swordsman whom all the continent’s warriors look up to. Don’t treat me like that. Honestly, my reputation isn’t something to take lightly, right?”
Irine released the hug and chuckled.
“Alright, alright. Master Quain has given an order, so I must obey.”
Irine placed her hands on the windowsill again and continued.
“Oh, and…”
“Go on.”
“Why did Master Grandol suddenly pass the title of Guardian Knight to you? I understand he retired after the end of the war, but it seemed a bit rushed.”
“He was tormented by guilt.”
“Guilt?”
“You probably learned this recently. Welch, who struck Her Majesty’s back and the White Gate… Master Grandol couldn’t stop Welch’s attack.”
“But that wasn’t Master Grandol’s fault, was it?”
“That’s the nature of a Guardian Knight. Her Majesty knew that too, which is why she didn’t hold him back… ‘If there’s one thing I can’t predict within Aranthia, it’s the fate of the Guardian Knight who protects me.’ That was all Her Majesty said as she let him go.”
Irine let out a short sigh.
“No matter how high an illusion the current White Wolves hold of you, it can’t compare to the one we had for Grandol.”
“I don’t need to pass on the exact illusion I held. Besides, I confidently believe that the White Wolves I’ve trained are much stronger than those taught by Grandol.”
Irine laughed loudly.
“Yesterday, when I went to get the weapons made for them, Master Lergo said that the current White Wolves are the strongest he’s ever known. So, what does that make us?”
“Second best, I guess.”
Quain stepped down from the windowsill and continued.
“If you’ve got the weapons ready, I have nothing more to say. I’m returning to Her Majesty. Don’t bother coming to say goodbye when you leave. I’ll be busy today. And here.”
Quain handed Irine a small leather pouch she recognized well.
“Healing powder from Tailed? You still have this?”
“I never needed to use it.”
“So, I must have been the only one using it. Lofin used it for me, and I gave my share to him…”
Irine called out to Quain, who was already walking towards the door.
“Hey, friend. A farewell isn’t necessary for a short trip, but at least some advice or encouragement would be nice, right?”
“Don’t get hurt, Irine.”
“Alright.”
“And if Tailed is safe… pass on my regards.”
Irine shrugged, unable to respond, and Quain left without waiting for a reply.
“How cruel. Telling me not to act spoiled? That’s too much. If not you, who am I supposed to lean on and take a break with?”
Irine dressed, fastened Vena Esarck to her waist, and shouldered a large backpack filled with a shield, sword, and axe. She stood up straight.
“Well, at thirty-five, are you ready to join the twenty-five-year-old active soldiers for the final battle?”
Irine asked and answered herself in a cheerful voice.
“Of course, Master Irine.”
–TL Notes–
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