Chapter 2 Part 2

“He didn’t have a choice.”

She smiled and looked up at Boris. “Sir Boris, I’ve never said this before, but… thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“What are you saying? You’re the one who let me write to my grandfather. If not for you, I wouldn’t have been able to.”

Before Boris left years ago, he’d secretly given her a carrier hawk dedicated to that purpose—and later even sent more as the older ones passed.

“I’ll repay that kindness for the rest of my life.”

“That’s… Oh—looks like the Lord’s arrived!”

Alexander was approaching on horseback, surrounded by a dozen or so soldiers. Clad in a pale slate-gray cloak over his armor, he cut a figure like a mountain silhouetted against the light. When their eyes met, Melissa felt a chill crawl down her spine.

The guilt of having to deceive him weighed heavy, and a raw fear surged at the thought of possibly harming his dragon.

Alexander’s unreadable gaze swept slowly over her and Boris.

It was only a passing glance, and yet Melissa’s heart raced.

She felt as if everything had already been laid bare.

She had told him with her own lips that Franz and Bright were scheming—surely he wouldn’t suspect her, not now.

…Would he?

Just as her mind began to spiral, Alexander called out.

“Boris.”

“Ah, right.”

Boris stepped forward and opened the carriage door, bowing his head as if to signal her to board. The gesture felt unfamiliar—so unlike the way she was usually treated—that Melissa hesitated, unsure what to do. Before she could even collect herself, Alexander dismounted and strode over.

Her hand was seized before she could react.

“My Lady.”

His fingers, long and firm like aligned piano keys, wrapped around hers with quiet insistence. His voice was cold, but the heat of his palm seeped into her skin and spread through her arm.

“Has my brother never helped you into a carriage before?”

His tone was wry, almost mocking, but his thumb gently rubbed over the back of her hand.

She should have answered—no, Franz had never escorted her—but the sudden touch turned her mind blank. She parted her lips to speak, but no words came.

Alexander let out a faint smile.

“I’ll have to remind him how to treat his bride properly.”

Then his voice dropped, deep and composed against the nape of her neck.

“You’ll use my hand for support. Step up and sit.”

Like an adult teaching a child, he guided her with calm authority. Numb and unable to think, Melissa simply followed his lead.

Step up. Sit.

Once inside, she fumbled into the far corner. Her only clear sensation was the lingering warmth of his hand—the feel of smooth, slightly stiff leather that had enveloped hers.

Clutching her hands to her chest, she stared at the floor, as though trying to hold on to what remained of that fleeting heat.

Alexander’s gaze lingered briefly. Her pale blue eyes trembled, unable to mask what she felt. But he turned away swiftly and, rather than joining her, mounted his horse again.

Watching, Boris clicked his tongue and followed.

“Doing things you’ve never done before? The knights’ faces say it all.”

He meant it.

Though Alexander often wore a casual smirk, in truth he was cold-blooded. Any display of anger or amusement was always deliberate. Even when he broke things, it was never out of impulse—it was because he’d decided it was necessary.

He seemed to divide the world into two categories: what was necessary and what wasn’t. If it meant securing what he needed, he’d smile and devour a man whole.

The problem was, he’d never treated a woman like this before.

Though Alexander often acted courteous to women, he was never this mischievous. Boris and the other knights were quietly stunned. He had always dismissed Melissa with barely a glance—so what brought on the change?

Boris didn’t like it. He didn’t like seeing Melissa so visibly flustered either.

“Why does she even like that bastard so much…” he muttered.

It was obvious, regardless of her status as Franz’s fiancé. Her trembling eyes, her shallow breath whenever Alexander was near, her gaze that lingered just a beat too long—it was all there. She couldn’t hide it if she tried. It was painful to watch.

Meanwhile, Alexander was a polished snake—shiny on the outside, venomous underneath.

Thinking how disgusting he was, Boris followed after him, only to be ignored as Alexander turned his reins and rode ahead. Boris quickly caught up.

“But, my lord, why assign so many guards to Galandia’s girl?”

“To confirm something.”

Alexander repeated what he once told the queen.

“To confirm…?”

Boris, trying to keep pace, tilted his head. Others might follow orders without question, but Boris had to manage the troops—keeping secrets didn’t help. Perhaps because of their long history, Alexander took pity on him.

“Bright’s dabbling in sorcery.”

It was Alexander himself who leaked to Bright that her future daughter-in-law had come to him in secret. When he’d casually mentioned that “the future Lady Franz seemed very interested in me,” his mother’s face had been something to behold.

Whether Melissa truly had power could be verified in Tavalon. But first, he needed to determine Bright’s intentions.

“…Understood.”

Boris, having stuck by him for over ten years, seemed to piece together the gist of it.

The convoy bound for the south stirred into motion behind them. The time was fast approaching—to decide whether the pawn was truly needed.

***

As soon as the order was given, the carriage departed and quickly reached the outskirts beyond the city. Melissa, unable to calm her pounding heart, realized something was wrong as soon as they entered the dense forest. The sounds around her were more complex than when they were in the city. Alarmed, she grabbed the window frame and looked outside.

“…There are more soldiers now.”

When they departed, there had only been about a dozen knights, but somehow over thirty had now joined. She had never seen such a large group of soldiers move all at once, and the sight made her tense up. The luxury of enjoying the beautiful scenery disappeared instantly.

“B-Boris!”

“Yes, why are you calling, M-Melissa?”

When she hurriedly called out to Boris through the window, he stuck his head in and mimicked her tone. Melissa frowned slightly.

“Aren’t we going to Tavalon? Why are we going this way…?”

From what she knew, such a large procession wasn’t necessary to reach Tavalon. First of all, in the capital of Rafe, there was a rune-engraved gate that led directly to Tavalon, and Alexander, as the lord of Tavalon, had more than enough authority to use it. If they weren’t using the rune gate, taking a ship would have been more efficient.

This was all possible because of the unique geography of the continent of Teraaperum. In the center of Teraaperum was a massive hole resembling a giant lake. In the middle of that lake was an island—Rafe, the capital. So beautiful that Northerners called it Hairo Kensha, or “Heaven,” Rafe fueled the pride of the Teraaperum people as descendants of the Apostles.

There was one more feature of the continent. From the island stretched five river branches like rays of the sun. Seen from above, the land looked like a pie sliced into six sections. Following one of these rivers south led straight to Tavalon.

And yet, they were moving in the opposite direction of both the port and the capital. Just as Boris made a troubled face and tried to respond, it happened.

***

“Ah, well, the truth is…”

KIEEEEEEK—!

Suddenly, a piercing shriek ripped through the sky. The forest trembled, and a powerful gust of wind surged into the carriage. Melissa gasped and hunched over.

“Good! Stay crouched like that! …Everyone, hold your positions!”

As if waiting for this moment, Boris’s voice rang out along with the sharp clashing of steel. Blades were colliding in multiple directions at once.

What is going on?

In a state of panic, Melissa clutched her bag tightly.

“This is bad. I can’t see anything!”

Someone spoke in urgency. They couldn’t see the enemy?

“Looks like a wraith.”

“It’s the work of wranglers. How troublesome.”

“Wranglers” were hunters who used sealed monsters according to need, and “wraiths” were invisible interdimensional beasts.

Melissa’s role until now had been mostly tending to Franz’s petty whims or reading, so while she wasn’t entirely ignorant about monsters, knowing about them didn’t mean she could do anything in this situation.

Inside the rattling carriage, all she could do was curl up tighter.

“This is problematic.”

“Still, a wraith reveals itself when injured. We need to strike first…”

Multiple calm voices traded remarks, as if they had been anticipating this exact scenario.

“Boris.”

Among them, Alexander’s voice was the steadiest. It flowed clearly through the chaos.

“Take the sentries and hunt down the wranglers. Kill on sight.”

He let out a short breath before continuing.

“As you all know, wraiths have no eyes. They don’t see—they hear. Until the archers secure high ground, the rest of you make noise to drive the wraiths in.”

His voice lowered.

“Find the wraith leader and kill it.”

No sooner had he spoken than the gruesome sounds of tearing flesh and snapping muscle echoed all around.

The battle had begun.

 Despite the chaotic battle, Alexander’s commands rang out clearly at intervals, and even Melissa found herself growing calmer with each one. Inside the jostling carriage, she cautiously lifted her head. As she peered outside, her eyes landed on Philip, who had fallen out of formation. He seemed too preoccupied with fending off enemies for anyone to assist him. Without giving herself time to think clearly, Melissa flung the door open and ran toward him.

***

Franz paced anxiously in his room, biting at his nails.

“What the hell is Mother thinking?”

Bright, his mother, had gained several abilities after joining hands with a sorcerer. One of them was the power to extract the Bergritz bloodline’s authority from the dead.

It was an ancient sorcery long used by the Bergritz family—strictly forbidden, but not difficult for Bright to access.

What he couldn’t understand was this: why hadn’t she just killed Melissa?

Killing her and seizing her power would’ve been simple, yet his mother had chosen to keep her alive, even marrying her off to Franz to keep her close.

It was a painfully traditional but safe method.

Still, the disgrace of it made Franz seethe.

He was meant to be the next head of House Bergritz.

A direct descendant, the eldest son, born of a noble father and a mother with royal blood—his pedigree was impeccable. If only he could gain the authority of the bloodline, his qualifications would be flawless!

And yet they wanted him to marry a disgraced hostage from a vassal house?

He couldn’t let this marriage go through.

So he’d hired the wranglers. It had cost a fortune in jewelry, but with Alexander watching over Melissa, he’d had to act boldly.

Up to that point, things had gone well.

The problem was his mother’s reaction.

She had looked down at her son with something akin to pity and said:

“Do you really think Alexander didn’t expect an attack?”

“…What?”

“He’s letting it happen, you foolish child.”

Bright swept her golden hair back and rolled her pitch-black eyes.

“I thought it would take longer, but thanks to you, Alexander will now recognize Melissa’s power immediately.”

She paused for a moment, as if contemplating something, then rubbed her chin.

“If Melissa returns alive after killing the dragon, that would be ideal. But oh well. Melissa is going to be in danger. That boy would be capable of killing her.”

“Mother, what is so special about Gallandia?”

“Hm. You’d best hope that girl returns alive. It’s purely for your own good.”

His mother left after saying something cryptic as always. Franz was frustrated, but one thing was clear—Melissa surviving and killing the dragon would somehow work in his favor.

***

“Melissa! What the hell are you—damn it!”

Boris, who had been guarding the carriage, cursed in panic, drenched in blood, when Melissa suddenly burst out.

But Melissa shouted without hesitation.

“Sir Boris, to your right! Five cubits tall!”

Boris slashed sideways with his sword, and the ghost, its chest split open, revealed its form and crumpled to the ground.

“There are twenty-nine in total! Most are targeting the right side, be careful!”

She shouted out as she scanned the surroundings, then murmured almost like a sigh.

They said they couldn’t see them.

‘But I can.’

She saw the ghosts clearly. White, eyeless, noseless beasts baring their teeth—massive creatures attacking the soldiers.

They looked like giants clad in pale leather.

Even those untouched by arrows, with all limbs intact—she could see them all.

Everything was burned into the sapphire blue of her irises.

One human-sized ghost was about to fall on Philip.