“Haha… hahahaha…”

  The laugh came bitterly from Fenric’s mouth. If anything, it sounded more like a rasp—a defiant, mocking sound aimed at the cruelty of fate.

  “Seriously… is having a peaceful life really that hard?”

  Vierna wondered the same thing. Why did living peacefully and being able to use magic feel like parallel lines—two things that could never meet? When you were weak, they sent you to war, turning you into just another number in the carnage, where you could die trampled by your own comrades. And when you were strong, they sent you to war too, only to a different front.

  “It’s the Imperium’s fault,” Lina said. “Everything was fine back then… I mean, during Arcus’ time.”

  Fenric looked up at the ceiling. Water droplets fell one by one to the stone floor, the sound echoing like the ticking of a clock.

  “We can’t stay here,” he said, breaking the silence. “It’s getting colder by the minute, and I’m honestly worried about the boy.”

  “Fuck, I forgot!” Lina exclaimed. “This is all your fault for interrogating us!” she added, dragging herself toward where Axel lay.

  “It’s your fault too for being suspicious. I mean, if only you’d told me what was going on.”

  “Haha… that’s not how a spy works, Fenric,” Vierna said, glancing toward Lina as she checked Axel’s condition. “I mean, what would you have done if I just walked up to you and said, ‘Hey, I’m a spy’?”

  “Guys, I hate to interrupt your little chat,” Lina cut in, her tone tightening. “But he is not looking good.”

  Axel was still unconscious, his skin pale to the point of translucence. Sweat clung to his forehead, but when Lina brushed her hand against his cheek, it was cold—not the chill of the air, but the clammy cold of someone burning from within. His lips had lost their color, turning a faint shade of ash, and his breathing came shallow and uneven, as if each inhale demanded more strength than he had left.

  While Vierna was busy answering Fenric’s questions, Lina had wiped the rain from him. She had also stripped Axel down to his undergarments; there was no time to be self-conscious about an opposite gender’s body when a life was hanging by a thread. She covered him with a wool blanket and some linen cloth, yet the air in the cave still bit cruelly at what little warmth remained in him—the kind of cold that crept under the skin and stayed there.

  Outside, the storm howled without pause. The wind pressed against the cracks in the stone, carrying a low, endless wail. If anything, it was growing worse—the rain hammering harder, the thunder closer, as if the world itself conspired to snuff out what little life the boy had left.

  “He really needs a proper place,” Vierna said.

  “We can’t move him into the rain again. His body already feels like a corpse—if he’s exposed to the cold once more, I’m sure he’ll die.”

  “I got him,” Fenric said as he approached Axel. He picked the boy up along with his coverings. “Follow me.”

  Vierna turned to Lina, but Lina was already trying to stand.

  “You okay, Lin?”

  “Hehe… I’ll manage. Ouch—” She fell back to the ground with a wince. “Hehe… seems it still hurts. Hey… what are you—”

  “Sst…” Vierna smiled softly as she lifted her up with both hands. Her own pain felt dull compared to the want—no, by the need—to shower Lina with affection.

  Lina had gone through so much trying to find a cure for the tea, and the thought stirred both gratitude and guilt in her. But she shook her head, pushing the guilt down. Not because she was indifferent to Lina’s struggle, but because she knew Lina would hate it if her actions made Vierna blame herself again.

  As far as she understood, Lina cared for her—and that care shouldn’t be repaid with guilt.

  They both followed Fenric toward an opening in the cave. The sound of dripping water echoed faintly around them.

  “This way,” he said as he ducked into the hole. “This’ll lead us straight to my home in Rolbart.”

  “You made an emergency exit? Why?” Vierna asked, curiosity edging her voice.

  “My mother made it using her magic. I only help a bit adding the bracing to the wall. I still need to cast some mana so the conjured wood wouldn’t dissapear.”

  “Why did she make an escape route from Rolbart?”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “The last village we lived in—something happened, and she got paranoid. So when she settled in Rolbart, she built this place just in case.”

  Vierna looked toward the entrance of the tunnel. The darkness inside felt alive, as though it were creeping toward them, only to recoil from the runic light etched into the cave wall. She reached out, feeling for air from within. There was a bit of air coming from it.

  “Fenric, wait a bit. I need a light before going in.”

  “Oh, right. There’s a lantern in the box near the hearth. Ah—and we should probably kill the fire before we go. Could you do that?”

  “Of course.” Vierna gently set Lina down. “Wait for me, okay?”

  “Well, it’s not like I’m going anywhere soon,” Lina said with a laugh.

  Vierna patted her head lightly before heading back to the hearth. The faint orange glow made the cave seem warmer than it really was. She rummaged through the boxes until she found a lantern, then lit it with a taper from the hearth. Afterward, she poured the rest of the Hairon-root tea over the embers to snuff them out. The scent of burnt herbs filled the air, and she grimaced; she hoped she’d never have to drink that stuff again.

  When everything was done, she returned to Lina.

  “Lin… hold this,” Vierna said, handing her the lantern.

  Lina took it carefully, the light flickering across her tired face. Vierna lifted her again, holding her close as she started toward the tunnel.

  Lina blushed, her voice small. “When did you get so strong?”

  “Haha… I’m not strong, Lina. You’re just light.”

  “Uhmm… our disguise makes us taller, so it should make me heavier than I really am,” she murmured, half-hiding her embarrassment behind a smile. “Anyway, how can you get hit by that beast and still carry me?”

  “To be honest, my leg’s killing me right now,” Vierna admitted, shifting her weight but refusing to set her down. “But I want to do this for you. You risked your life to get me my cure.”

  “But you’re clearly in pain! You can’t even walk straight.”

  “Yes, and your leg doesn’t look like it could handle it anymore. So let me do this for you, Lin. I can handle it.”

  Lina hesitated, her lips parting as if to argue—but then she sighed and rested her head against Vierna’s shoulder instead. It seemed Vierna had struck the right chord.

  Still, another thought nagged at her. Who’s going to stitch her wound? Going to Aila didn’t seem like a good idea now, not with how suspicious they already were.

  “Damn, my face itches,” Lina muttered, scratching at the scarred side of her cheek.

  Vierna glanced at her, then frowned. Something was happening. “Lin… your face.”

  Lina blinked and touched her cheek, her fingers brushing over the skin. “What? What’s wrong with it?”

  “Some of it’s regrowing.”

  The damaged flesh was knitting together; the red patches that had looked freshly carved were fading little by little. It wasn’t instant, but the change was there—alive, slow, real.

  “I have to tell you,” Lina said quietly, her voice trembling somewhere between awe and exhaustion. “Those people in the research facility really didn’t cut corners when it came to this mission.”

  “But it’s not complete yet,” Vierna replied. “Have you taken the Formbind Elixir?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then let’s hope the scar’s completely gone after you drink it. We don’t need people asking what happened to you.”

  They moved into the tunnel. The air changed the moment they stepped inside. It carryied the scent of damp stone and old soil. Small veins of glowstone shimmered faintly along the walls, pale and greenish like trapped moonlight. The gems pulsed just enough to cast dim halos of light, but not enough to chase away the darkness. Their footsteps echoed softly, mingling with the sound of dripping water that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

  Vierna held Lina close, the lantern’s flame trembling with each uneven step. The path narrowed ahead, the ceiling dipping low enough that Fenric had to hunch slightly as he walked. Every now and then, the glowstone caught the edge of his fur-lined cloak, flashing like brief sparks before fading again into the black.

  After a while, Vierna’s breath grew heavier. The dull ache in her leg sharpened, each step sending a pulse of pain through her thigh. Her arms trembled under Lina’s weight, though she tried not to show it. Still, Fenric was getting farther and farther ahead.

  “Hey, Antlers! We need to stop,” Lina called out, her voice echoing faintly through the tunnel. “Vierna needs some rest.”

  “No, Lina… I’m fine, really.”

  “No, you’re not. Besides, a minute of rest won’t kill us.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Sit your ass down,” Lina snapped, though her tone softened halfway through.

  Fenric glanced back, then jogged toward them. He gently set Axel down on a flatter stretch of stone. Lina crouched beside the boy, checking his breathing. He was still burning with fever, his body twitching now and then, but he was holding on.

  “Sorry…” Vierna muttered, lowering herself carefully to the ground.

  “Don’t be,” Fenric said, his antlers brushing against the low ceiling as he sat. “If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry for forcing you to drink that tea.”

  Vierna caught the faint tremor in his voice. Something about it made her look at him differently—no longer as a local she needed to deceive, but as someone she could trust, maybe even call an ally.

  “Fenric,” she said quietly. “I’m going to need your help from now on, okay?”

  “Help how? I’m not exactly good at spying on people.”

  “Just tell me everything I ask you,” Vierna said. “And act normal. That’s all I need.”

  Fenric let out a breath that was half a laugh, half disbelief. “Can’t believe I’m working with someone sent to spy on my village.”

  “Well, like I said,” Lina chimed in, still tending to Axel. “We’re the only shot you’ve got. And honestly? I share Vierna’s feelings for this place. If I could save you all, I would.”

  “Thanks, Lina… and for the record, the name’s Fenric. Not ‘deer boy,’ not ‘Antlers.’”

  “No chance, furry ears,” Lina said with a grin. “Everyone I know has a nickname.”

  “Oh yeah? Then what’s hers?” He nodded toward Vierna.

  “Bweee, not gonna tell you,” Lina teased, sticking out her tongue.

  Vierna couldn’t help but smile. Watching them banter brought a small warmth to the cold tunnel. It reminded her of when they first met Albrecht—before they knew what he really was. For a brief moment, it felt like those simpler time, when laughter didn’t carry so much weight.

  Maybe this was how new bonds were formed, even when it started with deception, maybe in the future she wouldn’t need it anymore.

  Still, as the laughter faded, her thoughts drifted back to reality. Maybe the only way to save Fenric and the people of Rolbart was indeed to destroy Yvlaine’s camp and impress Leopold, though it still felt more like hope than certainty. It wasn’t a sure path, but for now, it was the only one she could see.

  She exhaled, rubbing her face as if to wake herself.