52 - Gone
Dawn broke over the County of Libera in uneasy silence.
The sun rose slowly, casting golden light over a land that had changed overnight. The estate gates stood open. The banners of House Libera hung tattered. And the knights... were gone.
---
At the center of the estate courtyard, Crown Prince Zafiel stood alone.
His greatsword rested against his shoulder once more. The faint purplish aura had long since faded. But the aftermath remained. Bodies had already been cleared.
Servants had been ordered to resume order. And the county had been seized. Without resistance. Without delay. Without mercy.
Zafiel's gaze drifted toward the horizon. "... it spreads faster than expected." A quiet observation. Cold. Measured.
Behind him, a knight knelt. "Your Imperial Highness," the man said, head bowed, "the message has been prepared."
Zafiel nodded once. A small wooden capsule was handed to him. Inside, a tightly rolled letter sealed with imperial wax.
Zafiel crouched slightly as a courier pigeon was brought forward. He secured the capsule to its leg with practiced ease. "Fly."
The bird took off immediately. Wings cutting through the morning air, carrying word to Luxor, the imperial capital. Reinforcements. Containment. Control. Because this was no longer a local issue.
---
"You work quickly." The voice came from behind. Calm. Familiar.
Zafiel didn't turn. "... you're late." A faint chuckle followed.
"My apologies, Your Imperial Highness." Sir Leonhard stepped forward, clad in his usual knightly attire, his presence steady as ever. "But I bring news."
Zafiel finally glanced at him. "Speak."
Leonhard straightened slightly. "Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Lilith, has received your report." A pause. "She commends your efficiency."
Zafiel's expression did not change. "... of course she does."
Leonhard studied him briefly. "... that is all?"
Zafiel turned his gaze forward again. "... what did you expect?"
Leonhard smiled faintly. "Perhaps satisfaction."
"... irrelevant." Silence settled between them for a moment. Then, Zafiel spoke again. "... there's something else."
Leonhard's posture sharpened instantly. "Your Imperial Highness?"
Zafiel's eyes darkened slightly. "... go to Forebros."
Leonhard blinked. "... Forebros?"
Zafiel turned his head slightly. "... protect Mariana."
Leonhard's expression shifted. Not confusion. But understanding. "... you believe she'll be targeted."
Zafiel didn't answer immediately. But the silence said enough.
"... the organization is moving too quickly," he said finally. "Too broadly." His grip on the greatsword tightened ever so slightly. "They're not just preparing rebellion." A pause. "... they're removing variables."
Leonhard's eyes narrowed. "And Grand Princess Mariana... is one of them." A quiet conclusion. Cold. Certain. Leonhard nodded once. "I'll depart immediately."
Zafiel didn't look back. "... don't be late."
---
Far from Libera-
In the vast northern territory of Forebros, a carriage moved steadily along a quiet road. Inside, laughter. Soft. Light. Unaware.
"... and then the steward tripped over his own ledger!" Mariana said, barely holding back her laughter.
Across from her, her older brother, Grand Prince Eirwen, sighed. "... you find the strangest things amusing."
Mariana grinned. "It was funny!"
Eirwen shook his head, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. They had spent the past few days touring their fief. Inspecting lands. Meeting retainers. Performing their duties as nobles. And now, they were returning home. Safe. Peaceful. Normal. Or at least, it had been.
---
The carriage suddenly lurched. The horses screamed. Eirwen's expression changed instantly. "Stop the carriage!"
Too late. The vehicle jolted violently to a halt. Silence fell. Heavy. Wrong.
Eirwen's hand moved to his sword. "... stay inside."
Mariana blinked. "... what?"
Then-
The door burst open. A figure stood outside. Cloaked. Hooded. Face hidden. And behind him, more. At least a dozen. Surrounding them completely.
Eirwen stepped out first. His sword drawn in a single smooth motion. Steel gleamed under the daylight. "... state your business."
No response. The figures remained silent. Still. Then, one stepped forward. And released his aura. Mariana's breath caught.
It was... wrong. Just like-
"... Brother Eirwen..."
"I know." His voice was calm. But his stance tightened. Protective. Deadly. "Stay behind me."
The figures moved. All at once.
Steel clashed.
Eirwen moved like a storm. His blade cut through the first attacker cleanly. Then turned, blocking another strike. Then another.
He was strong. Exceptionally so. A Grand Prince of Forebros was not merely a title. It was power. Earned and proven.
But there were too many. And they were not ordinary enemies. Their movements were coordinated. Precise. Relentless.
One slipped past his guard, heading straight for the carriage. Mariana froze. For a split second, everything slowed. Then, the world distorted.
A sudden surge of mana. Dense. Overwhelming. The air twisted. And before Mariana could react, a hand grabbed her wrist. "... found you."
Her eyes widened. A man stood beside her. Tall. Calm. His eyes glowing faintly with mana.
"... who-?!"
The world warped. Space itself seemed to fold. And in the next instant, they were gone.
"Mariana?!" Eirwen's voice rang out. Sharp. Panicked. He turned, just in time to see her vanish.
"... no-" His grip on his sword tightened. Rage surged. Cold. Furious. "You..." His gaze snapped toward the remaining attackers. "... you took her." The air around him shifted. His aura flared. Violent. Unrestrained. "You're all going to die."
Steel flashed. Blood followed. Eirwen fought like a man possessed.
Every strike lethal. Every movement driven by fury. But the enemies did not falter. Did not retreat. They pressed forward. Relentless. Unyielding.
---
Then, a new presence entered the battlefield. A blur of motion. A flash of steel. One attacker fell. Then another. Eirwen's eyes flicked toward the newcomer. Recognition. "... Sir Leonhard."
The knight didn't respond. His blade moved again. Precise. Efficient. Deadly. The remaining attackers hesitated. Just for a moment. Eirwen stepped forward.
"... where is she?" Leonhard's voice was calm but sharp.
"Gone." Eirwen's grip tightened. "... taken."
Silence fell. Heavy. Dangerous.
Leonhard's eyes narrowed slightly. "... then we retrieve her."
Eirwen's gaze darkened. "No." A pause. "... we hunt them."
And somewhere far away, a girl who had just begun to understand her place in the world had been taken by forces far beyond her comprehension.
The game had changed. And this time, Mariana was no longer just a spectator. She was the target.