Chapter 65
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Left Alone
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Richer had been gone for four days when Ariete finally woke from her sleep.
She felt like she'd had a long, complicated dream, but it had been so deep that she couldn't remember any of it. When was the last time she'd slept this soundly? Her head felt fuzzy.
Ariete sat up and scanned her surroundings. Naturally, Richer was nowhere to be seen.
Her throat was parched—cracked and tearing apart from the dryness.
At the same time, a ravenous hunger hit her hard, though it wasn't quite as agonizing as the thirst. Ariete reached for the cup of water she'd set out beforehand. She always filled a glass and placed it by her bedside before bed.
The cup was empty.
To be precise, it was empty of water. The powder she'd always dissolved in it had dried into a faint, cloudy stain at the bottom.
'How long did I sleep?'
Ariete conjured water with magic and sipped it slowly. Her thirst was so intense that even after drinking her fill, it lingered.
Once her stomach felt full to bursting with water, a heavy sense of helplessness and depression washed over her. Ariete pulled out a dose of powder medicine and washed it down. It was made from dried and ground herbs that lifted the spirits.
But one dose wasn't enough. She downed three more in quick succession. Sitting still, she waited until her body finally grew languid as the medicine took hold. She knew taking them back-to-back wasn't good for her, but she had no choice.
Her mind sank into deep shadows, yet her body thrummed with unnatural energy—a bizarre sensation.
'Then again, when have I ever felt normal?'
The immense hunger and thirst, the cup dried to the last drop.
Ariete knew instinctively. This wasn't the effect of a sleeping pill. Someone had put her to sleep artificially. And without a doubt, Richer was behind it.
She'd sensed something off even before falling asleep. Richer had never been this attentive and caring for so long.
Ariete had pushed the truth away with all her might, but she was too intelligent to live wrapped in rosy illusions forever.
But it was a trap she couldn't help falling into—and she had, spectacularly. Half-knowingly, even.
To Ariete, a single spring day in her life was that precious.
She knew the mousetrap would snap and sever her neck, yet she still had to poke her head in. For that one breath of fragrance, Ariete would gladly offer her throat.
After endless waiting, that one day of spring had arrived. And now winter had returned.
Having tasted that sweet dream for a day, it was all the harder to endure.
She'd longed so desperately for even a single day of happiness in her life, but now that past day's joy tormented her. Her current existence—withered, cracked, and ashen—held no meaning compared to that radiant glow.
Ariete suffered. If it had just been cold and painful as always, that might have been better. She could have let inertia carry her through the days, writhing in her everyday loneliness.
The void left by happiness was far too vast.
But she had no regrets. Regretting that day with Richer would be like crushing her entire life from the foundation up.
The depression and helplessness cut deeper than ever. To suppress the overwhelming sorrow, Ariete popped more medicine nonstop.
The overdose rattled her mind. Her vision tinted purple, then yellow and white lights enveloped it.
She closed her eyes. A kaleidoscope of colors danced behind her lids. Unable to fight the dizziness, she collapsed again with a thud.
In a hazy, half-asleep daze, Ariete thought.
Drenched in the drug's haze, her mind still worked remarkably well.
'I want to follow Master.'
Of course, the intelligence bureau would be keeping tabs on Richer's group. That was their purpose, after all.
But Ariete had no way to track Richer's location. War Mages were high mages, but they were weapons of war. The bureau had no reason to share intel with one.
Besides, the odds of her secretly departed master welcoming her into the group were slim.
Ariete had no means to find Richer—and even if she did, no chance of being accepted.
'Master. You told me tomorrow would be a good day too.'
Couldn't you have stayed one more day as promised? If you'd given me just one more joyful day like you said, maybe I could have let you go.
No, I know that's a lie. I'd have done anything to stretch that day longer.
I'd have begged for love and attention. Or harmed myself if that's what it took.
'I can't give up. I can't hold on anymore. I want to be happy too.'
Then a good idea struck her. If she couldn't go to her master, she could make her master come back.
And the surest way to do that was to make the otherworlder traveling with him return to the capital.
Ariete knew exactly how to force that otherworlder back to the imperial capital.
Mana Cell.
Last year—or was it the year before?—another War Mage had taken a disciple, only to regret it later and send them away. The disciple had great talent, and he couldn't bear blocking their future.
But a bureaucrat on bad terms with the War Mage slandered him. Claiming a tip that he'd taught the disciple Mana Cell.
The disciple was arrested by the magic corps, and the Empire, true to form, took a brutal and decisive approach.
It's possible to prove you know something.
But impossible to prove you don't know something.
There was no way for a War Mage's disciple to prove ignorance of Mana Cell.
So the Empire's solution was simple: If you can't prove you don't know, make sure you do—and turn you into a War Mage.
From the Empire's view, it was the most rational path.
Better to upend one life and gain a War Mage than risk leaking the Mana Cell secret abroad.
And an individual couldn't resist the Empire's colossal might.
'His name was Tae-jin. Just report that the otherworlder can use Mana Cell. The bureau and magic corps will swoop in and drag them back.'
When Ariete became a War Mage, her master had been wracked with guilt. He would never have taught Mana Cell to this Tae-jin otherworlder.
But she just needed to plant suspicion and pretext in the Empire. Whether Tae-jin actually knew Mana Cell was irrelevant.
The Empire was already on edge; they wouldn't tolerate their sole otherworlder mage stealing Mana Cell secrets.
All she had to do was give the tense Empire a little nudge from behind. That would suffice.
Once the second disciple was captured, her master would have no choice but to return.
'Master will despise and hate me. But at least I'll be close.'
Hate me, scorn me—just do it by my side. That's how I want to stay near you.
Even eyes burning with rage are fine. Look at me. The more you hate me, the deeper my love as I gaze back.
Ariete settled on her grim solution, then succumbed to dizziness and fell asleep again.
It wasn't as happy as the night before.
For four days, Tae-jin's group fled at a leisurely yet urgent pace. An odd description, but that was reality.
They couldn't rush. They had to look like tourists or travelers.
Any sign of undue haste would tip off the Empire, slashing their chances of slipping out unscathed.
So they had to visit sizable cities or tourist spots one by one.
Stopping at a new city each day, finding decent restaurants, and eating slowly. Though tension dulled the flavors.
They couldn't head straight for the border either. Instead, they spiraled toward it languidly.
The only one thrilled was Renata. Give her sights and snacks, and she was in heaven. Right now, she clutched a pair of well-made dolls, grinning ear to ear.
Even moving slowly, they couldn't relax. Too leisurely, and the Empire might shift stances—or some wildcard could emerge.
One imperial order to "capture them," and disaster was inevitable.
In fact, the imperial intelligence bureau seemed to have reacted. The shadows tailing them had grown from two to three or four.
But unsure if it was mere tourism or escape, their pursuit felt half-hearted.
Tae-jin gazed out the carriage window, then turned to Garam.
"Ariete must be waking up around now, right?"
"Not sure. Could've woken yesterday, or she might sleep another day."
"What kind of spell is that? You cast it."
"Ingredients vary, targets vary—yet same result every time? Wouldn't that be weirder? Rituals depend heavily on luck."
"Not because you're a hack shaman?"
Garam and Tae-jin bickered playfully, debating surcharges or discounts based on ritual performance.
And so evening fell again. Innocent tourists needed to find lodging in the city ahead.
A massive city loomed before them: Astram, the Empire's largest in the east.