The Illusion Everyone Can See (1)
The night flowed darkly, yet with so many signs of unease lingering around them, they could not afford to lower their guard. Still, they lacked the strength to forgo sleep entirely and scour the surroundings. The Yohan-less team took turns standing watch, hoping to endure this exhausting, chaotic day. Two hours per person was hardly a burden on paper, but anyone who had done it knew how grueling it truly was.
Karalin volunteered for the second watch. Eclipse, who slept deeply, took the first, and Jurchen the last. Karalin and Cryan, who could manage on short naps, covered the middle shifts.
“The moon is bright…”
After the handover, Karalin sat alone listening to the dawn chorus of insects. She checked that everyone was asleep.
“No one’s getting up, right?”
She drew out the letter she had kept tucked inside her clothes and began to read. She had never spoken its contents aloud, but the words were etched in her mind. It came right after the message warning that someone was pursuing her.
“…By the time this letter reaches you, the presence of those hunting me may have quieted, or grown fiercer still. The future is unknowable, and that uncertainty brings its own inevitable dread. Whatever happens, I hope you will not concern yourself too greatly with my fate. My lady, please keep your heart at ease.”
“…Yohan.”
The next lines were raw with feeling.
“But if I must leave, my lady, it will be because I wish for you to survive and to go on living. Even if I tried to explain this heart of mine, it would never reach you. My only remaining worry is that you might become someone else once I am gone. That is all…”
Yohan’s prediction had been correct. After that shocking news, Karalin had sat frozen, crushed by helplessness and despair. She had even considered death. And the one her thoughts had ultimately reached was…
Other innocent people.
Her gaze drifted to Eclipse, who seemed to be sleeping. Karalin’s long lashes trembled.
‘I nearly dragged Eclipse and so many others into danger, not just myself.’
Yet Yohan had even prepared for this, leaving her the peony and this letter. Truly, he had been the only one who ever truly understood her, right to the very end.
“Still, I believe you are stronger than anyone. I admired that strength, and I was captivated by that magnificent sight. So I have one request: please continue to be that person. Do not be afraid, even in a world without me. When an enemy strikes at your back, glance over your shoulder as you did when I stood beside you. And in that moment, if you can believe I am still there with you… then my one and only life will finally feel complete. For now, simply think of me and remember you are not alone. According to the fate carried by wind and storm, we may meet again someday. Until that day, cherish my memory and endure everything with courage. This is the final request of your servant, and the final prayer of your loyal knight. One who received sword and honor from you, and who regards you as his lifelong treasure. — Yohan.”
Do not think you are alone. Endure what lies ahead. The words felt unbearably heavy, and unbearably precious. Because he had been her knight—perhaps more precious to her than she had been to herself—Karalin cherished those words above all others. She rose from that cramped room, moved her body, and came here.
And now, as expected, suspicious incidents kept occurring, and time continued to slip away. Standing in the midst of it all, Karalin thought: even if she could only see her knight again in death, she would wait and wait for that day. When they finally met in the afterlife, she would tell him, ‘I lived hard so I wouldn’t bring shame to you.’
And she would say the words she had never managed to speak while he was alive: ‘I loved you.’
“…Ah, my lady…”
“…?!”
Eclipse, whom she had thought was asleep, suddenly spoke. Karalin had tried to stay quiet so the girl could rest, but Eclipse’s ears were apparently sharp; the rustle of the letter had woken her.
Karalin’s first instinct was to hide the letter, but what was the point now?
“That’s… the letter from Yohan that I delivered…?”
“Yes. The letter Yohan wrote. Thank you for trying so hard to bring it to me. Without it, I don’t know what would have become of me.”
“I-I’m so glad… Though it was that suspicious mage who gave it to me… Ehh, I don’t know.”
Eclipse buried her face in her sleeping bag, ears twitching like a rabbit’s, and asked, “Then, my lady, may I ask what it says…?”
“…Uh, it’s nothing special.”
Revealing the contents still felt embarrassing. But Karalin had a soft spot for cuteness. When Eclipse looked at her with eyes that said she wouldn’t sleep unless she heard, Karalin thought for a moment, then spoke.
“Yohan said he liked me.”
“W-wowww—”
In truth, he had never said those exact words. She didn’t even know if he had liked her that way. Whenever Yohan spoke of his feelings, he had only ever used words like admiration and reverence. Still… that truth was now veiled forever, impossible to uncover. So Karalin made her own wish into reality. It might have been a lie, but at least she wanted to believe it. She had always longed for mutual love, yet as the first and last person Yohan would ever love, that was something she could never have again.
“I don’t know anything, so I don’t know what to say about Yohan’s death either… but at least Yohan is always beside you, my lady.”
“I suppose so. I hope that’s true…”
“If he were alive, he would have been so happy for you…”
Eclipse yawned. She had only woken briefly; perhaps she was speaking half-asleep. Karalin reached out without thinking and patted her gently.
“Thank you for telling me that. We can’t be together like the three of us used to, but someday I’d like to have tea time with just you again.”
“Yes… I’m sorry, my lady, I’m so sleepy. I’m going back to sleep…”
After putting Eclipse back to bed, it wasn’t long before it was time to switch with Cryan. Karalin was exhausted too. She leaned quietly against a tree and surrendered to the bone-deep fatigue that felt like eternal sleep.
…….
…….
“Wake up, everyone, get up—! What the hell is this—!!”
How much time had passed? A familiar male voice pierced her mind. Karalin’s eyes flew open. Her body clock said it was morning, yet the sun had not fully risen. She found the source of the voice: Jurchen.
Jurchen had already polymorphed nearly his entire body except his face and was pinning something to the ground.
“A bird… made of steel?”
Karalin muttered in confusion, then realized the steel bird wasn’t the only one Jurchen was holding down.
Shrieeeek—
Dozens of iron hawks, reflecting the faint dawn light, wheeled above their heads in formation. Their intent to dive was vicious. Karalin’s nerves sharpened instantly.
“What is going on here…?!”
“Huh? I was just talking with my lady a moment ago…!”
She shouted at the other two, who were still half-asleep and disoriented.
“Everyone, prepare to fight…!”
Without even donning the black armor that matched Yohan’s, she gripped the black longsword he had left behind—the one she had fallen asleep holding—and sprinted toward Jurchen.
***
The field exercise had turned into hell. Before dawn ended, no one knew exactly what had happened, but the sky that should have been blue was now filled with vicious steel birds. They flew low with no apparent purpose, attacking anything that looked human on sight. Merely brushing against their razor-sharp iron beaks drew blood. Shooting them down required anti-air capabilities most students simply didn’t possess. They were also as fast as a running human, and the short training period meant most cadets had no idea how to respond. In short, total chaos.
Teams that had sensed something wrong after yesterday’s mass fainting of messenger birds and set up watches managed to avoid disaster. Those who hadn’t woke to the sight of a close friend gravely wounded or dead.
Huff, huff—
Two girls ran down the path. Their original team of four was now reduced to two. The other two had dismissed last night’s events as nothing serious and paid the price. One had woken to find her body riddled with wounds from steel beaks.
‘Kyaaah?!’
‘W-what’s happening?!’
Without even checking if their companions were alive, they abandoned everything and tried to flee—only for the hellish steel hawks to appear again. This time the remaining teammate sacrificed herself to buy them time.
‘I’ll hold them here… Run! You two find someone and ask for help…!’
‘Will you be all right?!’
‘I’m not dying here! I’ll survive somehow… And if anyone has to die in this place, it should be me!’
It was a noble sacrifice born of chivalry, but not very effective. A single sword and armor offered little protection against flocks of flying steel hawks. Tragically, an elven archer—Lumein Kelo—heard the boy’s dying screams through her keen ears. The blind girl following her, Vaisha, heard them too.
“Lumein, Lumein… A-are they still chasing us?”
“We have to run, Vaisha! Right now, we just have to run!”
But Vaisha, unable to see, had no way to grasp the situation. Lumein wanted to offer comforting words, yet there were none to give. She could only repeat the command to run. There was no solution left. Karlandel was vast, and there were barely six hundred students. The odds of encountering anyone while fleeing these birds were slim, and the odds of that person being helpful were even slimmer. After sprinting for so long, their hearts felt ready to burst and their legs refused to obey.
“Ah… this is the end…”
Lumein had survived this long with arrows and tricks, but now that her quiver was empty, there was no hope left.
“Someone, please save us… if anyone’s there, save us…”
“Are all the gamekeepers dead…?”
Then it happened.
Shrieeeek──
Something huge and black streaked past their eyes at impossible speed.
“Kyaa?!”
“W-what was that, Lumein?!”
Following its trajectory, they saw—
BOOM—!
The black figure had driven its claws into the steel hawk that had been chasing them. The iron beast crumpled instantly and fell to the ground without a sound, its silence only emphasizing how inorganic it was. Lumein finally understood: the black shape that had passed them was no meteor. It was a rider astride a dragon.
The rider had prioritized them over the pursuing flock. He glanced back and murmured, “Vaisha. Lumein.”
“Thank you for saving us…!”
The black-armored knight had spoken their names. They had no time or composure to ask how he knew them. They could only pour out their heartfelt gratitude to the man who had pulled them from the brink of death. The knight with the low, resonant voice seemed about to say more, then apparently decided there was no time. He simply jerked his chin in the opposite direction, as if telling them to run that way while he handled the rest.
Lumein asked, “…B-but what about you?!”
She had already seen what happened to those who made such sacrifices. Yet the black knight remained silent. He no longer spared them a glance, turning instead toward the steel hawks once more.
WHOOSH—
The dragon’s speed whipped up a jet stream that sent their clothes fluttering.
“W-we have to run, Vaisha…!”
“Understood—!!”
As they descended the slope, Lumein kept stealing glances at the knight fighting behind them. She could only stare in shock. His control of the dragon was far from expert, yet whenever a hawk targeted the rider, he simply drew his sword and smashed it aside with raw power. More than that—if it wasn’t her imagination—the steel hawks that came too close to him seemed to dissolve into dust.
“…No way.”
She didn’t speak the name aloud, but Lumein’s sharp eyes and wits would not be deceived. As far as she knew, only one person in this world possessed that ability. They weren’t close, but it was common knowledge. Shock coursed through her. Anyone who had attended the entrance ceremony and heard the rumors would recognize him.
“He… didn’t die…?”
Could it be that a ghost had appeared before her eyes? A shiver ran down her spine.