Part 2, Chapter 3
Part 2, Chapter 3
Translation: godsn
Medeia turned her body.
"When?"
"Just moments ago. I came immediately after seeing the banners entering through the castle gates. However, I heard that the royal physicians and priests have been summoned to stand by outside the palace gates."
Medeia froze. It was rare for both royal physicians and priests to be called out simultaneously.
'Could something have happened on the plains?'
An ominous thought flashed through Medeia's mind.
"Pelleus. You don't necessarily have to go yourself. Sending just the Agema would be enough."
"We must completely eradicate the source of the Wave. It won't be dangerous. Don't worry, Dea. I'll finish quickly and return to you."
Even as he reassured her with affectionate words while patting her shoulder, she couldn't bring herself to agree.
Medeia still vividly remembered her brother's figure torn by monster claws.
The howling cries of the monster horde trampling through the vegetation still rang clearly in her ears.
The words 'Can't you just not go?' rose to the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't hold onto them.
"Dea, I'll be back."
Medeia fixed her gaze on the wooden figurine placed on the bedside table.
Even if everything else changed, why had she so complacently reassured herself, unable to be certain about the major course of events?
Her heartbeat grew erratic. The terror of that day, as if remembered by her very body, came flooding back.
The nightmare of her past life still lived and breathed vividly in her mind.
Given the slightest opportunity, those memories would force their way up, scattering dark mist.
Medeia rose to her feet.
"Kensington, we'll have to discuss the rest later."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Kensington caught a fleeting glimpse of unease that passed over the princess's calm face as she left.
The government office in District 2 of Valdina Royal Castle.
The vast courtyard of the government office, usually only frequented by officials, was in unprecedented chaos.
The reason was that the royal guards returning from the plains were in such critical condition that they couldn't make it to the royal palace and had to receive emergency treatment here instead.
The royal physicians, lined up in waiting, busily approached the Agema who had dismounted from their horses.
"Aaah..."
"Please stay still. I need to wrap this bandage."
Faint groans leaked out from all around.
Medeia looked around anxiously.
Amidst the armor stained with dark red bloodstains, the silver hair she was searching for was nowhere to be seen.
Medeia's footsteps quickened slightly.
Thump thump.
The sound of her pounding heart seemed audible in her ears.
Like an ominous harbinger insisting that something terrible was about to happen.
"Captain!"
At that moment, Neril spotted Dianzel first.
"Move the wounded to the infirmary first... Neril? Your Highness? What brings you all the way—"
Following Neril, Dianzel's eyebrows shot up when he noticed Medeia.
His appearance was also disheveled with dust and blood.
Medeia's eyes caught sight of the bandages wrapped thickly around his torso beneath the armor.
"Captain, are you injured?"
"Ah, this—it's nothing."
Dianzel hastily turned his body, but it was too late—his wound had already been exposed.
"What in the world happened? How could the captain be injured? And why are the Agema in such a state?"
At Neril's question, Dianzel exhaled a sigh and waved his hand dismissively.
"Don't even ask. We almost had a disaster. Another Wave suddenly erupted..."
Dianzel reported on the tense situation they had faced.
Pelleus and the Agema had successfully suppressed the Ghoul Wave that had erupted on the plains.
After dealing with the ghouls and thoroughly eliminating the source of the Wave, a new Wave had erupted on their return journey.
"They were high-level Magic Beasts. The original Wave was clearly low-level, with at most a mid-level boss at best."
A sudden emergence of a lich and a ghoul horde.
True to their reputation as knights of iron will, the Agema guards counterattacked without panic—but the sheer numbers were overwhelming.
"No matter how many we cut down, they just kept charging toward His Majesty. And with a demilich leading them, you can't imagine how relentless they were."
A demilich was a demi-divine magic beast—a lich that had attained enlightenment, shedding its body to exist only as a floating head.
The wound on Dianzel's side had been inflicted when he intercepted the demilich's attack aimed at Pelleus.
"And Pelleus—what of him?"
Medeia's urgent question made Dianzel realize he had inadvertently stirred the princess's concern while vividly recounting the desperate battle. He hastily added,
"Though he was struck by that vile necromancer, thankfully, His Majesty is unharmed now. The purification was successful as well."
Just then, a familiar voice rang out.
"Dianzel, refrain from unnecessary details."
Pelleus appeared from behind Dianzel, removing his armor.
His own armor, just as grimy, bore witness to the frantic struggle.
Yet, the filth clinging to him only enhanced his aura—like a martyr who had clawed his way back from the abyss, radiating an almost sacred solemnity.
"Struck? The toxicity was severe enough to require purification?"
Medeia strode forward and seized Pelleus's arm. There, on his left hand, she found a grayish scar—a lingering trace of the near-black miasma emitted by the undead.
"It's nothing, Dea. Truly. I'm perfectly fine. No pain at all. Just... a momentary lapse in focus..."
Seeing his sister's pallid face, Pelleus—uncharacteristically—fumbled his words.
"Perfectly fine? You were on the brink of death after being bitten. And being surrounded by a demilich and a mountain of ghouls was hardly due to our carelessness."
Dianzel snorted, then flinched under Pelleus's sharp glare and averted his eyes.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. But Her Highness should know. Had it not been for her, you truly would have been in grave danger."
"Her?"
Medeia stiffened.
"When I fell, someone drove back the ghouls and purified the poison."
Pelleus's brief explanation was insufficient, so Dianzel eagerly elaborated.
"A woman from a nearby village—where the ghoul wave had struck—awakened to holy power at just the right moment."
He gestured animatedly.
"If only you could have seen it, Your Highness. Then you'd understand why the Holy Kingdom has waited so desperately for a Saintess. It was... an awe-inspiring power."
Even the stoic Dianzel had been stunned witnessing the demilich—a demi-divine entity—reduced to a handful of ashes.
"A radiant white light engulfed the plains, powerful enough to turn the entire ghoul horde into cinders."
"......"
How many in the continent could claim to have seen a Saintess manifest with their own eyes?
Dianzel's uncharacteristically excited voice flowed into one of Medeia's ears and out the other.
She noticed too late—the golden locks approaching step by step behind her brother.
One step.
Then another.
"Ah, here she comes now."
The hem of a white dress rippled softly.
The woman drew closer. First, her lustrous golden hair, so radiant it stung the eyes, caught the sunlight.
Next, gentle amethyst eyes.
And finally, soft lips, curved like cherries in a tender smile, came into view.
"Your Highness, this is her. The savior who cut through the ghoul horde and rescued His Majesty—and us, the Agema."
Before Dianzel could finish the introduction, Medeia's lips moved soundlessly.
Rachel.
"Miss Rachel."
Why—why are you here?
A near-silent whisper, more a groan, echoed deep within her chest.