Chapter 94

“Rise, all of you. I know you are without fault.”

The line of soldiers heading for Quaidon would never have been able to enter the village through the raging flames that had surrounded it.

On top of that, a flood had broken out inside, drenching everything—the undersides of the wagons were caked in thick mud.

“We beg your pardon, Your Majesty.”

At Etias’ command, the commander rose, and the other soldiers followed.

His army was perfectly disciplined. I had only ever funded them, never once visiting the training grounds or barracks—yet these were the faces before me.

It felt surreal, like I was suddenly standing among the characters of a novel.

“Bring the imprisoned woman and her people. They will ride in the carriage.”

The commander’s eyes widened slightly at Etias’ order.

“But wasn’t the carriage for Your Majesty and the Lady?”

“No. The bait will ride. There will be those aiming for them, so prepare for an ambush.”

If they saw us leaving Quaidon together, they’d realize Heros hadn’t followed Aglia’s instructions in her letter.

Then, they would launch a second attack.

Which meant we needed bait to play my role.

Since I felt no guilt in turning a villain’s tricks back on villains, I didn’t hesitate—even when Lucia, looking bewildered, was dressed in a fine gown and seated in the carriage’s comfort.

“Katrin, why are you on horseback?”

Lucia’s voice, uneasy, drifted from the carriage window as she watched me mount a horse in armor like a knight’s.

I only curled my lips in a faint smirk instead of answering.

“Wait!”

Her anxious cry followed me, but I ignored it and pressed my foot into the stirrup.

Riding wouldn’t be a problem—I’d trained with Katrin’s body since childhood. I’d even flown across the hunting festival grounds.

The knights rode with the first carriage, then came the prisoners’ wagon.

Behind them, we spurred our horses forward.

To my left rode Heros, carrying the Duke in his Border Collie form on his back. To my right, Etias, riding as if to shield me.

On the watch strapped to my wrist, Etias’ nine hearts were lit.

HP: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡

Piyo~!

From my pocket, Piyo stuck out his head, chirping happily as the wind rushed past.

Meanwhile, in a carriage just shy of Quaidon, Duke Lancelot’s secretary stepped down.

A messenger pigeon had just delivered him a letter.

Wiping his sweat, he unfolded it—his eyes widening violently as he read.

It began with news that Duke Lancelot Obier, having reached Beast Peak, still had not returned to human form.

The further it went, the more furious it grew.

It ended with a furious scrawl: bring that damned mutt to the Imperial Palace for a proper examination, and for the gods’ sake, train it not to bite!

The sender was Geoffrey Whistler.

Did he get bitten while writing this?

The secretary stared grimly at the letter, then ordered the coachman to change course—toward the Imperial Palace.

Crackle, crackle.

The campfire burned brightly. The three of us sat around it while Heros roasted freshwater fish he’d caught.

Not far off, Imperial soldiers tended their wounds and shared food.

As expected, we’d been ambushed shortly after leaving Quaidon.

The carriage bristled with arrows like a hedgehog, and Lucia had fainted pale with terror.

She hadn’t even been struck—only frightened nearly to death.

It had clearly been a vile attempt to kill both Etias and me.
No doubt Aglia’s last desperate ploy.

But we had agreed to speak of her only at the Palace, so I wasted no emotion on her now. Instead, we talked of other things.

“So Shadowveil has a weakness like that?”

At my curious question, Etias replied,

“It’s an invincible shadow, yes, but it can only cling to living beings.”

I’d always marveled that it could seize even heavy foes like tentacles and fling them around. But he explained it was only possible with people or beasts.

Dark power craved life, feeding on the energy of the living to grow stronger.

“It can’t move heavy objects or scale walls.”

Etias’ eyes lifted toward the sheer face of a distant cliff.

“I struggled quite a bit when I had to defeat the Oshynil.”

Oshynil?

Wasn’t that the rare herb said to grow only beneath cliffs—the one someone had left by my door when I’d been sick with red pneumonia?

My eyes shimmered—I was about to ask if it had been Etias—

“Indeed, Shadowveil feeds on living energy,”

Heros’ cold voice cut in, his dark gaze fixed on Etias.

“Records say it not only harms its enemies, but drives its wielder into madness.”

Etias’ lips curled faintly.

“You’ve done your homework.”

“While His Majesty pursued great works, I remained by the Lady’s side. I learned every threat that could endanger her.”

“Heros…”

I stared at him, startled.

Just as when we’d spoken of Etias’ shadow and the hole in his heart, Heros made no effort to hide his hostility.

At that, Etias’ shadow began to writhe.

Even without reaching for us, the sheer pressure made my mind reel.

Grrrr—

Nearby, Lancelot bared his teeth, growling.
Piyo buried his entire head in my pocket.

The sheer force was overwhelming. They said when he unleashed it, the sky itself dimmed and a metallic taste filled the mouth.

“…!”

Heros slipped a hand toward the dagger at his chest.

The standoff bristled on a knife’s edge—until Etias suddenly closed his eyes, lashes casting long shadows on his cheeks.

Slowly, the enormous, restless shadow began to coil back, wrapping around him like a shroud of night.

I panicked, reaching for him—but Heros caught my arm.

“Don’t, my lady.”

“But Etias—!”

My heart thundered. I watched as the shroud of shadow thinned, sinking back into him.

At last, his body reappeared, whole as before. Only then did I release a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Etias opened his eyes, his face drawn tight with pain.

The fire that had threatened to die now blazed bright again, and Lancelot lay back down to sleep.

“….”

Heros’ brows were drawn, as though he’d just witnessed something he was never meant to see.

“What did you just do?”

“I will not become the tyrant you fear.”

“….”

Etias’ eyes turned to me, his voice low.

“You can believe that now, can’t you?”

My heart pounded harder, a dull ache blooming in my chest. I pressed a hand over it.

Heros’ voice cut through.

“Feeding your own organs to it… You’re monstrous.”

My heart dropped with a thud.

“What do you mean?”

I turned sharply to him.

“What are you saying, Heros?!”

“Those born with such forbidden power—and whose past suffering has widened the Shadowveil—will inevitably lose their minds. To stave off madness, they feed it other prey. That is how they nurture the beast.”

“That’s… impossible!”

Etias let out a rough breath and looked at me.

“It won’t harm me. I only feed it what grows back.”

Even with his brows drawn, his voice was meant to reassure me—as if to say, this was nothing to worry about.
That I need not share Heros’ fear.

“But…”

My voice trembled.

Heros had once told me Shadowveil fed on fragments of the heart, driving its wielder mad.

If Etias had chosen instead to feed it pieces of his own body—

“It must hurt.”

Even if it grew back, offering living flesh… that was torture.

Tears welled, spilling down my cheeks to the ground.

Damn the author! Who would write such a thing?!

Beyond the blaze of the firelight, Etias watched me with a faint, tender smile—
as I finally failed to hold back my tears.