Blurred Faces and Sisters' Embrace
In the aftermath of the battle between the imperial emperor and the nameless mage, the eastern wing of the palace lay half in ruins. That area had been densely packed with the empire's administrative offices. But after the clash of rampant magic, most of them were destroyed. A significant portion of the damage came from Emperor Joshua's own spells.
"Why can't you draw her?"
Emperor Joshua berated the painter, who was kowtowing so low his forehead scraped the floor, not even daring to whimper.
"You said you saw her face. So draw it. That should be all it takes!"
"I-it's just... I can't remember it suddenly, Your Majesty."
"Why not?"
"I-I'm terribly sorry, Your Majesty."
"Sorry doesn't cut it!"
Bam! Joshua slammed down the armrest. The painter groveled even deeper, nearly burrowing into the floor, while the other ministers held their breath.
"Captain of the Guard."
"...Yes, Your Majesty."
"You can't remember that woman's face either, can you?"
"...I'm terribly sorry."
"Tell me everything you do remember."
"All I recall is that she was a young woman. The blonde hair and blue eyes... I only realized that after Your Majesty mentioned it."
"Useless fools."
Joshua pressed a hand to his forehead. Ever since that battle, he'd mobilized every resource to track down Elizabeth. He'd sent soldiers scouring the capital and the entire empire like hounds on the hunt. But they found nothing. Because no one knew her face—after the fight, it was as if they'd all come down with collective amnesia. All they remembered was that she was a woman, and young.
It was bizarre. They'd clearly seen her face that day, yet it slipped away. The only fragments that surfaced were blonde hair and blue eyes—and even those were memories unique to Joshua. It was like smearing a wet portrait with the palm of his hand; her face was a smeared mess. He almost knew it, but not quite.
Even more shocking, her images were the same. Joshua had combed through every imperial group photo and portrait. In case some clue hid in the artwork. But the faces in the photos and paintings were smeared too.
This wasn't simple amnesia. Something—a transcendent being—had tampered with reality itself.
"...It seems a demon was involved."
An elderly mage spoke up. 9th Circle mage Schvalier. He'd just returned from subjugating a top-class demon.
"A demon?"
"Losing memories collectively is odd enough, but the photos and portraits being ruined too? Warping reality like this is demon work."
"So you're saying my little sister joined hands with a demon?"
"That's the most likely explanation."
"...."
"...At the very least, any demon capable of tampering with Your Majesty's memories must be of extraordinary rank."
Joshua squeezed his eyes shut. Her blurry face flickered in his mind. If even he could remember it, he could sketch a composite—but he couldn't. It was enough to drive him mad.
"Haa..."
Joshua leaned back, staring at the ceiling. A mosaic of the empire's founding emperors adorned the domed vault. He'd been on the cusp of the 10th Circle—and lost it.
"Y-Your Majesty."
"What now?"
"...One treasure is missing."
The palace treasury had been wrecked in the battle, its contents scattered. Probably lost while picking through the debris.
"Just find it. Do I have to clean up your messes?"
"...The missing treasure is the Dragon Blood."
Dragon Blood. The blood of now-extinct dragons. Ingested, it granted immense power—but as a side effect, death within a decade. Joshua had entrusted it to an alchemist for purification. In hopes it might propel him to the 10th Circle.
There was only one vial left in the world. And now it was gone? Something irreplaceable?
"Fuck! That's why I said find it!"
Irritation boiled over. The minister stammered on.
"...We've been searching for two days straight, but no luck. We even called in mages... not a trace."
"So what do you want me to do about it?"
"P-pardon...?"
The minister's baffled expression lit Joshua's short fuse.
Slash! A blade of wind severed the man's neck.
The grand hall fell into icy silence. Joshua glared at the corpse with fiery eyes, then issued his command.
"Hear my decree now. Schvalier, suspend demon hunts for the time being and find the imperial princess. Guard Captain, scour the entire world if you must and recover the Dragon Blood."
The house's backyard.
Clang!Crack!Skree! The clash of swords rang out crystal clear.
The two locked in combat were Leo and Hildegard. They were perfectly matched. Neither yielded an inch, exchanging blows right there on the spot. Razor-sharp gazes, unhesitating thrusts and slashes. No gaps allowed—a true deadlock.
Elizabeth watched from the shadows, knees hugged to her chest.
Whoosh! Leo wielded a short sword in one hand. His movements were feral, like a wild beast. Crouching low, he lunged in an instant, blade arcing in unpredictable paths. No time to flee, no moment to predict.
His swordplay was less technique, more instinct—honed on countless battlefields, the senses of a beast refined.
Hildegard was the opposite. She parried every assault with her single longsword, countering with serene calm. Her blade path was always true. The tip never wavered. It never missed empty air; her stance below the knee was rock-solid.
Skree... Clang!Ting.
The tide slowly turned toward Hildegard. She pressed Leo methodically. Her longer reach erased his space with effortless swings. Artfully blending advance and retreat, on-beat and off, she disrupted his rhythm and broke his form.
Leo's movements grew frantic. He gave his all. Hildegard never once panted. Composed, unflappable. As if she'd foreseen every flow from the start.
Leo played his trump card.
Thrust! He stepped deep forward, stabbing like a spear. A sharp, swift strike—piercing dead center.
But Hildegard kept her eyes on his tip to the end. She twisted her torso just enough to evade, then hooked his extended leg with her toe.
Leo's balance shook. But he didn't fall. He used the tilt, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"....!"
Before Hildegard could react, Leo dipped low, trying to slam her down.
But she wasn't one to go down easy. She twisted her arm, hooked her leg—knights trained deeply in wrestling for such scraps. They ended up entwined, rolling across the ground. Swords forgotten, it devolved into grappling.
In a split second—Hildegard moved first. She rolled back, leg shooting out. Her long limb snaked around his shoulder; she clamped it tight.
"...!"
A triangle formed. Her thigh locked his neck. One arm pinned to her chest, the other trapped in her legs.
Leo's body stiffened.
"Ngh..."
Air choked off. Pressure crushed his throat; his arm wouldn't budge. He struggled desperately to escape, but she was ironclad.
As he twisted, she yanked his head deeper with her legs. Closer. Breaths mingled. The warmth of her thigh on his nape, clashing gazes, tightening vise.
Strangely, amid the pain, a dizzying sensation flooded him.
"...."
"...."
Neither spoke. Elizabeth watched, her face emotionless.
Hildegard turned her head slightly. Her earlobe flushed red.
Pop— She released her legs. Effortlessly, as if strength had ebbed.
No words. Just like that.
Leo drew a slow breath. He peeled away, sitting up.
Hildegard rose, brushed her knees. Scratched her jaw idly, smoothed her hair. Clearly avoiding his eyes. Her pale skin flushed from the exertion.
Leo stayed silent. Only breaths crossed.
But that brief, intimate press lingered in his mind.
"...Lost again."
After a moment, Leo spoke. She shook her head.
"Leo uses magic too. If you did, I'd be helpless."
"That's that, this is this."
Leo had confided everything in Hildegard except Elizabeth. Mercenary days, academy magic training, imperial guard past.
She'd been shocked at first, but understood quickly.
"Water for you two."
Elizabeth brought water and towels.
"Thanks."
"Thank you."
To Hildegard’s polite speech, Elizabeth said,
"Speak casually."
"...No. This feels more natural."
"Even after we become family?"
"...You knew."
"Sorry for before, big sis Hildegard."
Elizabeth hugged her. Hildegard awkwardly returned it.
Face buried in her chest for a moment, Elizabeth murmured,
"I was jealous of you. Scared you'd steal Dad. I was awful. Can you forgive me?"
"Nothing to forgive. You love Leo that much, right?"
At that, Elizabeth turned to Leo with a radiant smile.
"Yes. I really love him."