Dragged unexpectedly into the labyrinth, Irynsis was startled for a moment, but quickly steadied herself and surveyed her surroundings.

From the outside, it had looked like a narrow cave, yet within stretched a vast wilderness. Contrary to what one might expect from a labyrinth, the scenery before her was peaceful, almost pastoral.

That was to say, if it had been functioning properly, it would have been.

“So it really has slipped from that old man’s grasp.”

Just as Nautil had claimed—unable to do more than summon it—the labyrinth’s landscape was strange. Though it was clearly a field, the ground and sky alike were fractured in places, as if the entire world were a colossal mirror, cracked through.

The magical mechanisms that must once have worked perfectly seemed to have lost their power. Nothing stirred. Paradoxically, that made it easier to find her way.

“Only those permitted by the relic may enter…”

No one had followed her in. Whether by magic or the relic’s will, that principle alone seemed to hold fast. It was a small relief—for the Mare people, and for her. At least the relic would not fall so easily into another’s hands.

“That way, perhaps.”

Drawing forth her holy power, she tested the air. A luminous path formed in its wake, flowing like a trail of light. She could not be sure it was correct, but she had little choice but to move forward.

Irynsis stepped onward.

***

“Irynsis!”

Cassion’s voice cracked as he shouted her name, but only meaningless echoes answered him.

He had followed her in the instant she was pulled inside—yet she had vanished like smoke. Already, unease coiled through his chest.

“Hsssk!”

A serpent-like monstrosity writhed and split apart beneath his blade, spraying blood. He had lost count of how many he’d cut down already.

The place he had entered was nothing but a pitch-dark cave. At first it seemed empty, but soon creatures of all shapes and sizes swarmed him. Most took the form of snakes—clearly the spawn of whatever magic Mare’s old sorcerer had woven into the labyrinth. Considering that Mare’s royal emblem had once been the mythical sea serpent, it made sense.

“Enough!”

Each sweep of Cassion’s sword cleaved off serpent heads in swift succession. They were hardly difficult opponents, no matter how many came at him. But his thoughts were far from calm.

‘Will she be all right?’

He worried his fragile wife would be forced to face such things herself. Yes, she had holy power—but what if she overextended, coughing blood and collapsing as she had before? The thought left him tense and restless.

“D*mn it!”

Though his urgency grew, no path presented itself. Unlike Irynsis, he could find no trail, no sign of where to go. All he could do was keep cutting down the endless creatures that surged at him.

If nothing else, he wished every monster in the labyrinth would come at him alone—so that, wherever she was wandering, not a single fingertip of hers would be harmed.

***

“Open the gate!”

“D*mn this cursed rock!”

Outside the labyrinth, Pathsbender’s commanders hammered at the sealed stone doors as though they meant to shatter them. Others joined their efforts, even setting explosives—but nothing worked. The labyrinth that had swallowed the ducal couple did not budge an inch.

“Bah, don’t waste your strength!”

Nautil, his legs trembling too weakly to stand, sat slumped in the sand and clicked his tongue at them.

“Old man! Open it at once!”

Jubin, nearly frantic, shouted threats, but the old sorcerer’s wrinkled face remained serenely unbothered.

“If I had the power to open it, I wouldn’t have let you lot manhandle me in the first place!”

He meant it. Though he had created it, as he’d said before, the labyrinth had long since slipped beyond his control. In the years he’d dared not touch it, who could say how the magic within had changed? Not even Nautil himself could be sure.

“What sort of magic was woven into that place?”

It was Escal, still calm enough to think, who asked. Nautil tried to recall the sheer number of spells he had cast to form the labyrinth—but at last, he gave up.

“Either way, it’s a labyrinth—there will be a way out. If the Grand Duchess truly received the Saint’s revelation, it won’t be difficult for her.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Do you think I would have placed the relic in a place that isn’t dangerous? Of course it’s dangerous!”

Nautil snapped, bristling at the question. Once, in his youth, he had been among the most renowned sorcerers on the continent. To have his ability doubted now needled at his pride.

“Tch, old man, can’t you do anything?”

Even Penna, unable to contain her urgency, pressed him. To her, Irynsis was their only hope. If she couldn’t make it out, there was no answer left.

“I told you, those not chosen by the relic cannot!” 

He barked. Yet, perhaps moved by their desperation, he added in a low mutter. 

“The most troublesome spell might still be alive in there.”

For Nautil was a sorcerer who had specialized in magic of the mind. Many of the labyrinth’s spells drew on that.

His specialty was attacking the mind through a person’s own deficiencies.

“The labyrinth will use against them whatever they lack most.”

“What does that mean?!”

“Just wait, you fools! If she cannot withstand even this much, then she has no right to face the relic!”

Snapping at Jubin’s impatience, Nautil then lay flat on the sand, as if done with them all.

Even so, Pathsbender’s commanders, unwilling to give up, struck at the stone gate again and again. At last, when it became clear there was no other choice, they settled to keep their vigil. 

For now, all they could do was wait.

***

Irynsis halted mid-step in a night desert, her gaze locking on a single spot.

As she walked, the scenery had shifted again and again—first a wide grassland, then a deep forest with no trace of sunlight, then a desert stretching without end.

And it was Irynsis who changed the scene each time.

At the edge of every path she found, there came a sudden break. Pausing to scan her surroundings, she would notice a place where the flow of energy was unnaturally gathered.

Few places looked intact, since the entire world here was fractured like shards of glass—but some held peculiar clusters of magic.

If the labyrinth had worked as Nautil had originally intended, each shift in scenery would have been guarded by magical attacks, serving as a gate.

But now, they were nothing more than brittle fragments.

With only a faint touch of her holy power, they collapsed like sandcastles left to dry too long in the sun.

So it was again now.

After studying the desert for a while, she breathed holy power into a mound of sand that felt strangely wrong. At once, the desert around her crumbled away.

How many more times she would have to do this before reaching the labyrinth’s end—she had no idea. But there was no other way.

Cassion was the same.

“D*mn these things, why are there so many of you!”

He had lost count of how many times his sword had struck. Sweat and monster blood drenched him alike.

The more of them that came for him, the more he could hope none went for Irynsis. He had no time to rest.

The only respite came whenever the labyrinth’s scenery abruptly shifted.

He still hadn’t discovered what triggered the change—but each time, the monsters vanished for a short while.

Just now, the jungle swamp had collapsed with a loud crack, vanishing in an instant.

The strength of the monsters was manageable, but he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

Even as he sank briefly to wipe the sweat from his brow, his eyes remained sharp, scanning the dark.

The swamp vanished. Suddenly, everything was shrouded in darkness.

Cassion shot to his feet. Something was wrong.

Unlike the other places, this background was not fractured. Which meant—whatever Nautil’s magic had left intact was here. The thought unsettled him.

Then it happened.

“Irynsis?”

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, faint outlines emerged. And with the barest trace of a silhouette, he knew her instantly.

“Irynsis!”

The moment she turned toward his call, thick white fog rushed in from all sides, flooding the darkness until it smothered everything.

In an instant, she was gone from his sight.

“D*mn it.”

He charged into the fog, but suddenly his body no longer obeyed.

His eyelids grew heavy. The arms that had swung his sword so tirelessly now felt as if sinking into the earth.

‘No—I can’t…’

He had to reach her. He had to.

That thought was the last before the world faded into black.