Perhaps because he had finally had a proper meal for the first time in a while, Tristan’s face looked remarkably refreshed despite it being only two days. No—he looked almost radiant.
“What is it you wanted to see me about? Have you perhaps made a decision?”
As if he had assumed Eileen would come with him, there was a faint hint of expectation in his eyes.
However, Eileen shook her head firmly and spoke in a resolute voice.
“I said this a few days ago as well, but I cannot accompany you.”
Of course, it would be a lie to say she felt no regret.
It had only been a few days since she had met the male lead she had once dreamed of seeing in person.
And yet she had to send him away already.
That face, that voice—so captivating it stole breath and drew admiration without effort.
“Is it truly impossible?”
“Yes. Absolutely impossible. The reason I asked to meet you is to make a request.”
“A request?”
At her repeated refusals, his long, cold eyes narrowed slightly.
It was a pity, but if she wanted to live, she had to send him away quickly. For both their sakes.
“Please leave this place immediately.”
“May I ask why you are suddenly saying this?”
For a brief moment, Eileen even thought his rapidly cooling expression was beautiful, before forcing herself to look away.
“If Your Highness remains here, a zombie wave will inevitably strike this territory. If that happens, most of the people who have barely survived until now will die.”
“A zombie wave?”
As if asking her to explain, he tilted his head.
Eileen stood up, forcing herself not to meet his gaze again, and walked toward the window.
“You’ve probably encountered mutants a few times on your way here. Did you know they are drawn to mana?”
“Hm… I suspected as much.”
“When a certain amount of mana gathers in one place, it inevitably attracts mutants, and those mutants lead hordes of zombies. That is what a zombie wave is. Dozens of mutants leading hundreds of zombies.”
In other words, “because of you and your companions, who possess large amounts of mana, innocent people in this territory are going to die.”
A heavy silence pressed down on the room. Tristan’s gaze remained fixed on her, as if trying to determine whether her words were true or not.
Eileen felt the back of her head prickling, but she kept her eyes on the window and steadied her breathing.
“…How do you know all this? Are you going to say you saw it in a dream again?”
His agitated voice cut past her ear like a scratch.
Startled, she turned her head, only to see his blue eyes glowing as if he were interrogating her.
Looking briefly into that cold, stormy anger and confusion, Eileen bowed her head deeply with a pleading expression.
“…Yes. So unless you intend to kill everyone here, please leave immediately. I beg you.”
Tristan’s brows slowly twisted as he looked down at her lowered head.
Tristan’s POV
Tristan had not expected her to readily follow him.
So he had secretly hoped that when they met again, her mind would have changed.
However, watching her explain the zombie wave, he felt that faint hope slowly crumble.
Instead, a powerful instinct flared up—he had to take that woman and leave immediately.
But there was no justification.
According to her, the cause of the zombie wave was the mana possessed by him and his knights.
As the acting lord, her request for them to leave was, in a sense, entirely reasonable.
Given that they had already been provided safe lodging and supplies, asking for more would be excessive.
Of course, he could use force—his status as prince or imperial authority—but that too felt hollow.
More importantly, he had no convincing reason to persuade his knights.
Relying on intuition alone would be difficult, especially given the inconvenience of traveling with a noble lady.
Even if she had some skill and stamina for a woman, she could hardly compare to his knights, most of whom were Sword Experts.
Above all, he was not shameless enough to bring death to another lord’s territory and take its leader.
Eileen, after studying his complicated expression for a moment, bowed again.
“We have prepared food, weapons, and warhorses. You should not lack anything for the time being.”
At a time like this, even offering such supplies without complaint was a tremendous act of goodwill.
When even food was scarce for the living, and imperial dignity had become meaningless in a world where survival was all that mattered, it was even more so.
He was not a man who repaid goodwill with malice.
Suppressing the urge to force her to come with him, he nodded slowly.
“Understood. We will depart as soon as preparations are complete.”
“…Thank you.”
Relief immediately spread across Eileen’s face.
After hesitating for a moment even after his acceptance, she spoke again with a somewhat regretful expression.
“And there is one more thing I must tell you.”
Her brown eyes met his, filled with urgency, sorrow, and a faint trace of longing.
It was a strangely intimate gaze, as if she had known him for a long time, mixed with concern for his well-being.
“I know this may be hard to believe, but… in order to save the empire, you must meet the saint. She is likely in the Meriad region by now. Before heading to the imperial capital, you must meet her.”
Is this woman truly acting under divine revelation? Is this familiarity in her eyes because she saw me in that revelation?
For him, “god” was nothing more than a hollow justification—an echo of forgotten ancestors.
A being that never granted him even a shred of blessing in his difficult life.
Thus, it was hard to fully believe her “revelation,” but following her advice did not seem like a bad idea.
“It’s a detour, but if you meet her, you may be able to secure supplies again. So please, meet the saint.”
Seeing no response, she pleaded again anxiously.
Tristan watched her quietly for a moment before finally asking.
“…Do you even know the saint’s name?”
“Yes. It’s Beatrice. Beatrice Stone.”
Eileen nodded, a faint sense of relief appearing on her face.
Afterwards
At the announcement of immediate departure, Sub-Captain Caleb looked puzzled.
As soon as the knights were ordered to move, a servant came down to confirm that preparations were complete.
Outside the lord’s castle, warhorses loaded with supplies were already waiting.
Caleb, who had been silently following Tristan, finally couldn’t hold back after passing the outer wall.
“Captain, didn’t you say you felt we should accompany Lady Whitewood? Are we just leaving her behind?”
“It turned out that way. Why? Disappointed?”
Caleb, who had been against the idea earlier, now seemed strangely let down.
At Tristan’s question, he clicked his tongue and spoke in admiration of Eileen.
“Well, I was against it, but that lady is impressive. Her defense system against zombies was mostly her plan, and she’s been keeping her territory running in a time like this.”
“That is true.”
“She’s skilled in offensive magic, purification, and healing magic. I even heard she possesses divine power.”
At the mention of “divine power,” Tristan’s brow subtly furrowed.
Divine power—and a divine revelation—and yet she is not a saint?
Does that even make sense?
“The residents seem to treat her like a saint. Are you sure there really is another saint? Isn’t she the saint?”
That thought had crossed Caleb’s mind as well. But it was already decided.
Whether her words were true or false would become clear upon reaching Meriad.
“According to her, the saint is in Meriad. We will pass through there before heading to the capital.”
However, he did not think she was lying.
Even while begging them to leave, the concern and goodwill in her eyes had been too sincere.
It was too desperate to dismiss as a mere excuse.
As he turned his gaze back toward the fading lord’s castle, a messenger who had been riding ahead suddenly returned.
“There is a group of zombies ahead, including a mutant. Their movement is unusual—they seem to be acting with a clear purpose. They appear to be heading toward Whitewood Territory.”
Tristan was not surprised; he had already heard the explanation from Eileen.
“It’s a precursor to a zombie wave. They follow the scent of mana. Once we leave this place, they will likely follow us. Break through.”
As they charged forward, they soon encountered a horde of dozens of zombies accompanied by a mutant.
Tristan cut down the mutant at the front, and the knights swiftly beheaded the rest.
But the horde was not just one group.
“Over there as well!” Caleb shouted.
Several more groups were approaching from different directions, each led by a mutant.
“There are at least four or five groups. Each has a mutant with them. Some look quite strong.”
“Increase speed. Once we pass, they will change direction. Move!”
After some time, they reached a low hill marking the edge of the territory.
“Wait… they’re not changing direction?”
