That smile was so radiant that she, too, could not help but smile.

“Shed…!”

Luise ran toward him, guided by the white bird. Shed stretched out his hand toward her as she rushed closer. From the small bird’s fluttering wings, a white feather drifted loose, spiraling gently down through the clear air until it landed softly in his palm.

For a moment, Luise thought the sight resembled a miracle. The pure brilliance of the feather seemed nobler than any color in the world. Had she ever seen anything so beautiful? Could a mere color alone make her heart tremble so?

Then Shed tucked the feather into the pocket at her chest.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Luise.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes overflowed with warmth and tenderness. Luise longed to remain within that gaze forever. His touch brushed gently across her cheek.

And in that instant—she awoke.

Shed was gone. The dazzling white bird was gone. The great lemon tree, too, was gone. And so was Luise Ideana.

All that remained was the damp darkness of night, the creak of an old hammock in a cramped cabin, and the harsh slap of waves against the hull.

On the swaying boat that tilted with every swell, Lea confronted the cold weight of reality.

“Ah…”

The dream, so achingly distant from reality, had been unbearably vivid, leaving her chest heavy with pain. She had thought she had cast aside every lingering attachment the moment she boarded the ship. Yet deep within, the name Luise still remained.

Lea buried her face in her sleeve. She had to strip it all away.

Luise, Liana—every last name and every memory bound to them.

It was a night steeped in moonlight and the briny scent of the sea.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

Those who had set out on the heretic hunt pressed north through the fog, into the forests beyond Faradel.

To the north stretched a dense woodland. Dead trees, withered by black magic, loomed among the mist, painting the landscape in an ominous gloom.

“The heretic must be somewhere in this forest…”

Dietrich murmured, staring into the trees. The strategy had already been laid out. The clerics would surround the forest with a temporary barrier, then sweep inward from the outer edge.

“If the heretic comes into contact with the barrier, we’ll know immediately. Unlike Faradel’s protective wards, this one won’t last long—so we’ll need to move quickly.”

Unlike the sturdy, intricate web of Faradel’s defenses, the temporary barrier could shatter easily under a single strike of the heretic’s power. But as a means to locate its position, it was invaluable.

“We’ll move inside the barrier.”

Shed advanced with the knights as the barrier tightened its circle around the forest. Shed and his knights had learnt countermeasures against black magic from Dietrich in preparation, but this would be their first time facing it in reality. They all wore tense expressions as they entered the woods.

The weather was unusually damp for early summer in Ideana. The knights lifted their gazes towards the darkening sky; a quiet unease gnawed at them. Yet no one spoke of it — they would not allow their words to bring misfortune to life.

Sir Carlisle gripped his sword and watched the Duke’s broad back as he rode his black warhorse ahead of him. Immediately, his nerves eased. Following Shed Lester made him feel as though the mist was merely another trap he had prepared. He was the kind of man who seemed to bend even the ominous air to his will.

“Begin.”

He scanned his men and, with a brief nod, gave the signal.

Dietrich, his face set with grim determination, issued his own command. The clerics moved as they had practised, weaving the temporary barrier into place in an instant.

The edges of the ward disappeared into the mist, almost invisible.

“I-It’s done…!”

Dietrich announced, his voice taut with excitement.

At Shed’s gesture, the knights spread out in a tight formation along the perimeter of the barrier. Guided by Dietrich, the clerics moved with delicate precision, closing the circle. Their work in closing the net without leaving a gap was nothing short of breathtaking. Through the fog, the shimmering barrier resembled a tidal wave converging on a single point.

Dietrich Lester had earned the title of the Hound of Heretic Hunts for good reason. Usually timid and hesitant, he seemed transformed tonight, his blue eyes alight with fervor.

“T-To catch the last heretic, we must be very, very careful…”

He muttered to himself, his gaze burning like blue flame.

It was a trap of patience.

They searched for hours in the sodden forest, tightening their sweep as they went. They crept deeper into the mist, making no sound and maintaining their focus.

At some point, darkness settled over the fog-bound woods. The rain fell steadily, seeping the cold into the air until each breath steamed white.

On any other night, they might have called off the operation and waited for dawn. But tonight, that was not an option.

“T-The barrier must be kept moving, without pause.”

To rest, even for a moment, would open a flaw. And a single lapse could let the heretic slip away.

Shed checked that both the clerics and the knights were strong enough to endure.

Though the rain had sapped their strength, those who had fought alongside him for a long time still had enough endurance left. The clerics, however, looked utterly exhausted, as though they had been forced to perform endless physical labor due to the constant drain of divine power.

“Are you all right, High Priest?”

Shed asked Dietrich, who had not stopped weaving the barrier even once.

Dietrich bobbed his head with fervor.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine! I’m used to this sort of thing…!”

Unlike the other clerics, Dietrich appeared unfazed, not even breaking into a sweat. His title of High Priest was well deserved.

“And the other clerics…?”

“O-Once the range grows smaller, the barrier will shrink as well. By dawn, we’ll be able to rotate shifts.”

Dietrich soothed the others, insisting they only needed to hold out until morning.

At last, the high-hanging moon faded and was replaced by the sun. Just as Dietrich had said, the shrinking circumference of the barrier meant that the clerics could rest in turns.

But even by the second day, when the barrier had already halved in size, there was still no sign of the heretic. Exhaustion set in. Some even began to doubt: had the heretic already slipped through?

Then, on the third morning of the hunt, beneath misty skies, the barrier flared red and let out a keening wail.

“Your Grace! W-Western quadrant!”

Dietrich shouted, snapping his head up.

Shed spurred his horse at once, racing west. Time was critical. The barrier was fragile; they had to strike before it collapsed.

The forest was still clogged with fog, the air thick and stale even after three days. Shed galloped toward the crimson glow of impact.

And then he saw it—the shadow he knew so well.

‘The heretic…!’

At the sight, Shed felt a surge of savage exhilaration and long-awaited vengeance. There stood the one who had taken Liana hostage and driven a blade into her. If that wretch was killed, Ideana could return to being a land of safety. And once it was done, he would have something to tell Liana as well.

Shed leapt from his horse, steel flashing from its sheath. No hesitation. His sword blazed instantly with blue light, cutting through the mist-choked woods.

The heretic cursed as he caught sight of the duke charging ahead of all others.

“D*mn it, so this is where it ends…!”

From the heretic’s fingers, black magic seethed to life.

‘His arm…?’

Shed’s gaze narrowed—what had once been severed had now grown back whole.

‘The regenerative power Dietrich spoke of…’

Dietrich had once explained that, whereas divine power healed others by drawing upon the wielder’s own strength, black magic restored its master by consuming the life force of others. Fed on stolen lives, its regenerative powers were far more miraculous — even grotesquely so — than those of divine power.

Divine power could close wounds and knit torn flesh together, but it could never replace a severed limb. Black magic, however, could. It was for this very reason that there would always be people desperate enough to covet it.

Dietrich had spoken of this before, but seeing it with his own eyes made Shed’s stomach twist. He could almost envision the lives devoured to regrow that arm. Perhaps the life force that Liana had lost when she was cut down by that blade was now bound within that limb.

“I knew you would come.”

The heretic’s gaze moved past Shed and onto the knights and clerics following behind. He knew he couldn’t take them all on at once. His fist clenched. Immediately, a storm of black energy began to churn around him.

Shed sensed it—the man’s power had grown far stronger than before.

‘How…?’

The heretic raised a hand high, its darkness coiling like smoke.

“Fall back!”

She gave a warning cry instinctively.

At the same time, the heretic slammed his hand into the ground. A violent surge of black energy ripped through the rain-soaked earth, engulfing the ground beneath their feet.

The ground crumbled beneath Shed.

“My lord!”

He tried to spring back, but the black force clutched at his ankles like chains, dragging him into the collapsing earth.

‘D*mn it…’

Not even Dietrich had warned him that heretics could shatter the ground itself. The last time they had fought, the man had not wielded anything like this level of catastrophic power.

As he plummeted, Shed twisted his body to keep his balance, slicing through falling boulders.

‘Was this all planned?’

The earth could not have given way under the force of the impact alone. The terrain must have been hollowed out beforehand.

He landed heavily, with dust billowing around him, but his aura protected him from harm. The depth was staggering — no light reached him from above. Even here, mist gathered, obscuring any view of the sky.

‘A trap, then.’

The heretic had deliberately lured him down here, separating him from his men.

He rose to his feet and brushed himself off. As he did so, his aura spread through the darkness. The cavern stretched out before them as expected, branching off into hidden passages.

‘So this is where he’s been hiding…?’

To think he had stayed so close to Faradel all this time, yet hidden himself so well.

But even so, Shed had never imagined there would be an entire world beneath the earth.

Then—footsteps echoed.

“So even this isn’t enough to kill you. Persistent bastard.”

The heretic emerged from the dark, eyes fixed on him as he advanced with slow, deliberate steps.