On the small island, where they used to go to bed after dinner without even lighting a fire to save wood and oil, a large bonfire now blazed. It was nothing short of a festival.

The news that the power of the relic had returned filled the people of Mare—both young and old—with joy.

“What’s there to be so happy about? You don’t even have land to raise a barrier on.”

Of course, their god was rather sharp-tongued, cold, and considerably irritable.

“S-sorry.”

Penna lowered her head sheepishly, though her hand refused to part with the cup in her grasp, unable to suppress her excitement.

Irynsis thought the sight peculiar. Unlike Mater, who found it bothersome and rarely showed himself except before a select few, Mistiel—despite grumbling—was mingling freely with the people.

“Still, since the god has returned, won’t we soon regain our land as well?”

“What a foolish dream. Such childish ignorance.”

At a muttered comment from one of the men of Mare, Mistiel let out a dry laugh.

“Gods are merely protectors. They do not meddle in the taking and losing of land.”

After all, the reason the gods had withdrawn from this world was because arrogant humans had dared to use the power of relics to interfere in mortal affairs. The gods had chosen not to forgive mankind for breaking the balance of the world, and so they abandoned it—unleashing plague and shadow upon it.

“But can you not at least drive away the shadows and the plague?”

Penna carefully held out a well-grilled fish skewer to Mistiel as she asked.

Though there was no need for her to eat, Mistiel did not refuse and naturally took a bite.

“That belongs solely to the domain of Light—the last hope of this world.”

It was only because Light had judged that hope still remained, and because its apostle had called Mistiel’s name, proving her, that the power had been granted.

“That is why I will do nothing else but protect you.”

Though her words sounded somewhat irresponsible, the people of Mare wiped away tears at them. For those who had long endured a lonely struggle, there was nothing more reassuring, nothing more comforting.

Their eyes naturally drifted to Irynsis—the one who had made all of this possible. She sat with the Duke and the unit commanders, sharing dinner.

Unlike the warm gazes from the Mare people or the comforting heat from the bonfire, the air around their table was starkly cold.

“Your Highness, you should eat more. Scarlett—no, Baron Bessa—fainted from how much weight you’ve lost.”

“This is already more than enou—”

Before she could even finish, a large piece of meat dropped heavily into her half-finished bowl of soup.

Cassion, having shared his portion, sipped his drink as though nothing had happened.

Normally, Irynsis would have scolded him—saying that only someone his size should eat that much—but now she said nothing. She only glared at the meat as if it were an enemy to be slain, then silently put it in her mouth and chewed.

The unit commanders, suffocated by the awkward atmosphere, could hardly breathe.

“I-I heard the Duchy has agreed to take in the Mare people?”

“Haha, more people means prosperity, doesn’t it?”

At Escal’s words, Hugo forced out an awkward laugh to agree.

Penna and the men of Mare had decided to continue their raiding contract with the Marquis of Cambria for the time being—watching their movements and finding out where the plundered goods ended up. In return, the elderly, women, and children would be taken in by the Pathsbender Duchy.

Mistiel, saying the Duchy was not her domain, chose to follow Penna’s group instead.

All of this had already been agreed upon and publicly announced. So even though everyone knew it, the unit commanders still repeated it aloud—simply because the tension between Cassion and Irynsis was suffocating.

Having tried in vain to ease the mood, the unit commanders quietly stood and moved to sit beside Penna.

“What’s this? It’s cramped here—why bother?”

Though Penna grumbled, she gladly made space for them. The unit commanders let out a collective sigh as they sat down.

“Mom and Dad had a fight…”

The Mare people, watching the dejected unit commanders, silently filled their cups with more drink.

***

The modest yet lively little festival came to an end.

As dusk settled over the beach, only complete darkness remained, broken by the glow of the moon and stars. The people of Mare went to sleep with light hearts, drifting into sweet dreams, while the ones from Pathsbender decided to rest aboard the ship until morning.

‘Stay here.’

Cassion had left her a room that was unmistakably his own, then disappeared somewhere. A little while later, only the physician came to examine her condition.

Irynsis tossed and turned, unable to shake off the tangled thoughts in her mind, until at last she drifted into sleep.

“Another dream.”

Once again, she faced her past in the dream.

She was lying in the room Pathsbender Castle had once given her, coughing up blood. It was near the end of her life.

Though the fireplace roared with burning logs, its warmth could not reach deep enough to thaw her chilling body. She coughed weakly, her gaze fixed again and again on the window.

Outside, the world was blanketed in white—snow had fallen once more. It was during the days when the rampaging shadows had finally bared their fangs at the Duchy of Pathsbender, and the imperial forces fought fierce battles against them.

At that time, Cassion, still hiding the remnants of his plague-ridden body, had left for the battlefield. All Irynsis could do was wait for him.

“Mag, why don’t you stay lying down?”

Merta, who had come to check on her condition, clicked her tongue and pulled the blanket up to Irynsis’s chin.

“They say the Pathsbender troops are coming to resupply with food…”

Her cracked voice broke apart mid-sentence under a fit of coughing. Somehow, Merta understood and sighed.

“Crossing a mountain range will take some time. And it’s more likely a supply unit will arrive than His Highness himself, don’t you think?”

Though Irynsis had not mentioned Cassion, Merta brought news of him anyway. Irynsis cautiously tried to draw up her holy power.

“Cough!”

A lump of blood surged up violently.

“My goodness! Scarlett!”

Startled, Merta ran to fetch Scarlett. Irynsis glared bitterly at her own trembling hands.

The weaker her life force became, the more violently her holy power rampaged—but her body could no longer endure the strain of using it.

She didn’t care about anything else anymore, but if only she could cure Cassion’s illness completely… Yet no method came to mind.

The helplessness burned her with frustration. Even if he does return, what use would I be like this?

But when she saw a group of riders approaching from outside the window, her feeble legs moved on their own. It must be the supply troops arriving.

This time, she resolved to somehow slip into their ranks and reach Cassion. Even if it cost her life, she wanted to give him every last ounce of her holy power.

Her withered arms struggled to lift a thick shawl. The small movement drained what little strength remained, taking a long time to finish.

At last, she managed to open the door.

“Ah, Nia…”

Golden eyes she had longed for every day met her gaze.

For a moment, Irynsis froze, unable to move, wondering if this too was a dream.

Her blue eyes traced every line of the figure before her.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Cassion, who had been lingering outside her door for some time, smiled awkwardly.

He had debated knocking, or perhaps simply stealing a glance at her before leaving quietly—afraid she might be asleep.

But before he could even press the handle, the door slid open from within, and the face he had ached for spilled over him like moonlight.

Beneath long lashes, eyes as blue as a clear lake trembled like rippling water.

Realizing the state he was in under her gaze, Cassion stepped back half a pace.

“Sorry… I must look a mess. If I’d known you were awake, I would’ve washed up first.”

As soon as he had arrived at the castle, longing had nearly suffocated him, driving him to rush straight up the stairs, heedless of the blood and dirt that clung to him.

“The meals and medicine… you’ve been taking them properly?”

Despite his gentle words, he still kept a slight distance.

Irynsis’s eyes swept down his figure—and froze as though nailed to his right hand.

In an instant, the small space between them disappeared.

Nearly stumbling, she rushed into his arms. Surprised, Cassion caught her, only for his hand to be seized in hers.

Irynsis’s eyes widened even more.

Seeing what she was staring at, Cassion gave a sheepish smile.

“Oh, this? It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

But Irynsis, summoning strength from who-knew-where, began pulling him toward her.

It was a frail strength, one he could have easily shaken off. Yet Cassion, who had never known how to refuse her, let himself be helplessly drawn into the room.