Chapter 46
When Sera regained consciousness, she found herself in a dark, abandoned building.
As she tried to get up, she heard the low murmur of unfamiliar men nearby.
“You sure we won’t get caught? I heard the temple’s looking for us.”
“They can’t find us. The capital’s too big. And with the festival going on, they’re too busy to look properly.”
“Heard the Eons are moving too?”
“Yeah, they’re scouring the east right now. By the time those bastards get here, the beasts in these ruins will already be waiting for them.”
“Ha. Even if the temple’s looking for us, what can they do? That oh-so-noble Cardinal’s underlings—”
“Hey! What are you idiots whispering about? Move it already!”
The men’s chatter cut off at the sound of a sharp barked order.
And then, Sera remembered.
The last thing before this—she’d been asleep in her bed. When she woke, she was tied up in a rickety wagon.
Outside, she’d heard two voices: one unfamiliar man’s—and one terribly familiar woman’s. The headmistress.
Please, Headmistress, save me!
Sera had screamed for help, but the person who opened the wagon door wasn’t the headmistress.
A strange man pressed a handkerchief over her nose and mouth—and everything went black.
Now, trembling, Sera took in her surroundings.
The men were painting a huge magic circle on the ballroom floor of what looked like an unfinished mansion—using animal blood. A gray-blond man, clearly their leader, watched nearby with a few subordinates.
And Sera instinctively knew—
This was where she would die.
Cold fear crawled up from the floor, seizing her chest, when suddenly—she heard sobbing close by.
“P-Please… please don’t kill me. I’ll do anything, just please…”
Another woman—a captive, like her.
“I figured she’d wake up soon.”
A dull thud. The crying stopped.
“Hey! What’d you do that for?”
“Better she’s unconscious. It’s mercy—better than dying awake and watching it happen.”
The men chuckled and went back to work.
Please… someone, anyone… save me.
Tears burned behind Sera’s eyelids, but she forced herself to stay still, feigning sleep.
Her bonds had been undone—but if she moved now, she’d just get beaten again.
Moments later, a slow clap echoed through the hall.
“The circle’s ready. Move the sacrifices into position.”
Footsteps approached. Someone lifted Sera up.
Terror crushed her lungs.
No one was coming. No one would save her.
If only I had power.
Power to fight these evil people—to save myself.
Maybe I should just run. Even if I get caught again. Even if I die trying…
Just as she gathered courage, she felt it—eyes on her, cold and sharp.
“You’re awake, aren’t you?”
Sera’s eyes flew open.
A man stared down at her, grinning eerily.
“Good girls should be asleep by now.”
A handkerchief pressed over her nose and mouth again.
For a few seconds she struggled—then went limp.
The man eased his grip, starting to pull the cloth away—
And in that instant, Sera’s eyes snapped open.
Before he could react, she slammed her head upward, smashing his nose.
“Agh!”
Blood gushed as he staggered back.
Sera dropped to the floor and bolted for the door.
“Catch her!” the man roared. “Doesn’t matter if she’s breathing—break a leg if you have to!”
She ran desperately—but a blast of magic struck her back.
“Ugh!”
The pain seared through her body, knocking her down.
A shadow loomed over her.
“Good girls obey their elders.”
Her back burned like fire. The pain was so deep she couldn’t breathe.
Sera gasped and scrambled backward—only to find herself pressed against a wall.
Cornered.
Then—
Whiiistle—
A clear, piercing whistle echoed from outside.
Everyone froze.
“What the hell…?”
Through the broken windows, they saw a woman approaching across the lakeside under the moonlight.
Her silver-white hair was tied up high, glowing like starlight.
“Just one woman? Doesn’t look armed.”
“She might not be alone. Grab the hostages—quick!”
The leader barked the order. The men moved toward the unconscious woman, a boy, and Sera.
But before they reached them, a shadow dropped through the half-collapsed ceiling—
—and kicked two men aside before they even realized what happened.
“Ghk!”
Two more rushed him. Both were cut down in seconds.
A dagger flew, hitting another man squarely in the back before he could grab Sera.
“Wh-who the hell—?!”
The leader spun toward the commotion just as the last man before him collapsed, revealing the attacker.
Under the pale moonlight—black hair, white skin splattered with blood, and a sword dripping red.
The leader froze.
“D-Duke Rittenhouse…?”
Tezet stared back silently, his green eyes calm and cold—murderous intent radiating beneath the surface.
Damn it all.
Tezet blocked the back exit. No escape that way.
The leader turned toward the front door—where the silver-haired woman, Elses, was now stepping through.
Just one woman… we can handle that.
He shouted to his men, “Kill the woman first! Then into the woods!”
Three men charged Elses at once.
She sidestepped the first, twisted his arm until it cracked—
“Aagh!”
—snatched his sword hand, and stabbed the leg of the one rushing from the side.
Two men down before they even knew what hit them.
Kicking their bodies aside, Elses advanced on the last one.
The remaining man trembled, frozen.
H-how can a woman be that strong…?
Her pale skin, her slender frame—she looked delicate. But the power rolling off her was monstrous.
He hesitated—until the leader snarled at the mages behind him.
“What are you waiting for?! Attack!”
The dark mages finally came to their senses and began chanting. Magic flared toward Elses.
The last swordsman screamed and charged.
“D-die!”
Elses ducked beneath his swing and slammed her fist into his solar plexus.
“Ghhk!”
He collapsed, gasping, eyes rolling back.
Using his limp body as a shield, Elses blocked a blast of magic, then hurled him aside. She picked up his fallen sword, murmuring:
“You could make this easier by surrendering now.”
Her tone was calm, almost serene—unbelievably so for someone who had just felled three grown men.
The mages hesitated—then prepared to cast again.
And then, behind them—
“Gahk!”
One collapsed, coughing blood.
“Sir Bolton, behind you—!”
The leader spun. Tezet was there, striding over fallen bodies, blood flecked across his handsome face.
He’d completely forgotten about him—until now.
And now, he realized it was hopeless.
Two enemies—one the famed national hero, the other… whatever Elses was.
What kind of monster is that woman?
Defeated, the leader dropped to his knees, gritting his teeth.
“…I wish to speak with His Eminence the Cardinal.”
Elses gazed down at him coolly. She had no interest in tormenting a beaten man.
“Fine. You can talk all you want—at the temple.”
She passed him and entered the mansion.
In the corner, huddled and trembling, was a little girl—barely ten.
Elses knelt before her, meeting her eyes.
“Hello. You’re Sera, right?”
“Y-Yes…”
“Mia asked me to come save you. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Mia…?”
At that name, tears welled in Sera’s eyes—tears of relief.
Elses smiled softly, then gathered the child into her arms.
“It’s all right now.”
She carried Sera outside, where, just in time, Lancelot and the temple knights were arriving.
“Thank you both for your help,” said one knight. “We’ll handle things from here. You may go on ahead.”
“No, we’ll stay until it’s cleaned up,” Elses replied.
She handed Sera to a knight and went to the lakeside to wash her hands.
Behind her, someone approached.
Tezet. His face still flecked with blood.
Elses pointed to her own cheek, showing him where the stains were.
He stared at her for a moment—then leaned in close.
“Wipe it off.”
There was a lake right behind him, but refusing felt too coldhearted. So she nodded.
Without a handkerchief, she used her damp fingers to gently wipe his cheek.
His gaze on her was intense, almost suffocating. She pretended not to notice, focusing on the task.
He’s taller than three years ago, she thought absently. Men do keep growing after twenty.
He was twenty-three now—older, broader, his boyish look replaced with sharp lines.
As she studied his face, their eyes met—green and unblinking, reflecting only her.
“You did well today,” she said awkwardly, withdrawing her hand.
But he caught it—his large hand closing around hers completely.
His gaze deepened, piercing.
Then, softly, his lips moved.
“You.”
The low voice brushed her ear, close enough to send a chill down her spine.
“You’re not that woman, are you?”
