A journey to certain death.
The four words came from Ed's mouth, as cold as his hands—and Fatenai thought again of the vipers in the Territory of Aesop.
"What are you talking about?" Fatenai looked at him, pretending not to understand. Little did she know that her palms were clammy and her eyes betrayed a panic she hadn't noticed.
Ed ignored her question and turned to mount his horse. His movements were swift and graceful. He did look like a frail boy, but his actions were decisive and precise, as contradictory as he was.
"Don't you want to see your friend? The Wisdom Family probably wouldn't want you back if they knew how cowardly you'd been out here." The way he spoke plainly was just as unpleasant. Who knew how many people this boy had deceived with his bewilderingly charming looks and honeyed words?
Fatenai had no time to worry about that. Seemingly accepting his explanation, she said no more and mounted her horse with a brisk movement.
"Wait here." Fatenai suddenly heard a bark and turned around. The hound she'd nearly forgotten was gazing up at her expectantly. After a moment's thought, she spoke to it.
The hound circled around, then finally sat down, as if agreeing.
"You're really heartless. It might run into wolves in the forest—though, come to think of it, it has a better chance of surviving a wolf than you do." Ed seemed addicted to mocking Fatenai, tossing out the remark casually.
Fatenai chose to ignore him, though her tone was every bit as sharp as his. "Can we go now? If we're any slower, I don't think we'll make it there in time."
"We can take our time. You can't save him anyway," Ed said.
"What exactly do you mean?" Fatenai couldn't help asking. "Your family hired a mage to hurt my friend, but when that mage came looking for me, you helped me evade her search. Are you my enemy or my friend?"
"I thought you were a noble." Ed rode forward. The horse, formed from mana, galloped through the forest without making a sound. Fatenai found it rather curious—but she was so eager to reach Wickel that she paid little attention to her own curiosity.
"I'm no longer a noble," Fatenai corrected him.
"You once were," Ed said.
What Ed said made no sense, yet Fatenai understood him unexpectedly well. Nobles had no enemies, and they had no friends either. The boy called Ed Ansendil was reminding her that he was neither her enemy nor her friend. Whether he acted in her interest depended on whether doing so benefited him.
Clearly, they were now in the same boat, but Fatenai didn't know what this boat was—or how she'd ended up aboard it.
"What exactly..." Fatenai couldn't help saying.
"You talk too much," Ed said. "You're going to be used either way, so you might as well get some sleep first."
A sudden sense of danger surged through Fatenai, but her thoughts grew muddled. Her vision went dark...
Ed felt the girl close her eyes and slump against his back. His expression turned cold as he urged the horse onward.
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In one part of the forest stood a Stone Platform in a grass-covered clearing. A carving of a goddess remained on the ruined platform, but from a distance, people would have thought it was just an ordinary rock.
Clang!
Wickel's sword fell to the ground. Covered in blood, he retreated step by step to the edge of the Stone Platform. His gaze was that of a bloodthirsty wolf. Standing on the platform, he surveyed his surroundings—the cloaked mages had driven him there, and one of them stood on the platform behind him.
He seemed to have no chance of winning, but in truth, he'd already achieved a miracle for an ordinary man. Facing those mages alone, Wickel had even managed to wound one of them.
"Auston, this is far enough. Hand over the Eye of Simorely." The mage at the front held a long blackwood staff and looked down at Wickel. "That thing is useless to you. If you hand it over, my master has promised to spare your life."
"You think I'd believe a word you say?" Wickel drew a short dagger from his boot and rolled his shoulder. His bones cracked.
"The way you talk is as irritating as ever," the mage said.
"I think I'm being perfectly clear. I'm not handing it over." Wickel raised his arm, looking ready to fight the mages to the bitter end.
"Since you have no regard for old ties, I can only mourn the loss of an excellent Forest Hunter on behalf of the goddess Allentia... Kill him." The mage's eyes flashed with murderous intent. He gestured to the companions behind him.
The mages began casting their spells, taking turns chanting incantations. Fireballs ignited in their hands, and roots from nearby trees rose out of the ground. After a brief chant, they surged toward Wickel!
Wickel gripped his dagger, leaning forward as he pointed it at the nearest mage.
"Cast Petrification! Stop him!" Mages were physically weaker than hunters. Having Wickel's dagger aimed at one of them was no small threat.
The mage at the front reacted immediately, so the mage standing on the Stone Platform broke off his original incantation and began another.
But Wickel stopped and turned toward the Stone Platform!
"Damn it!" The mages realized they'd fallen for the cunning Forest Hunter's trick. Wickel had put them under so much pressure that his feint fooled every one of them.
Wickel leaped onto the Stone Platform and punched the mage standing there, knocking him off. Then he roughly pulled the chain from around his neck. The pendant was shaped like a golden eye—without a doubt, it was the Eye of Simorely.
He looked at the mages, his eyes full of mockery.
"Stop!" The mage at the front realized something was wrong and shouted, but it was too late. The mages watched helplessly as Wickel pressed the Eye of Simorely against the Stone Platform. A small groove had been carved into it. Ordinary people would never have noticed it, but Wickel knew it well.
The ground shook. The mages lost their footing and stopped chanting. Beams of light rose around the Stone Platform, forming a perfect barrier around Wickel. The mages could no longer cast their spells to break through it.
"You'll drain the Eye of Simorely! Stop!" the mage at the front cried anxiously.
Wickel looked at him, standing on the Stone Platform with his arms crossed and not a hint of concern. "Marrison, it's been ten years. You should know what kind of person I am by now."
Marrison lowered the hood of his cloak, revealing a square face and ashen skin. His expression could only be described as gritted teeth. "Auston, why have you held out for so long? It's been ten years!"
"The biggest difference between us," Wickel said, staring at Marrison, "is that I've never tried to change your foolish ideas."
Marrison trembled with rage. He hadn't expected Wickel, already at the end of his strength, to pull this.
"In that case..." Marrison said coldly.
Their conversation was interrupted. The mages, able to sense mana, warily turned to look in one direction. Wickel followed their gaze. A black-haired boy riding a white horse, with a girl behind him, burst out of the forest. The horse moved with nimble grace, and they soon reached the clearing.
"Wickel Auston, let's make a deal." The black-haired boy had a pleasant voice. He didn't even spare the mages a glance, looking straight at Wickel.
Wickel didn't look at Ed. His gaze first fell on the unconscious Fatenai, then shifted to Ed, his expression growing even more fierce. "What did you do to her?"
"I just put her to sleep." Ed snapped his fingers. Fatenai floated weightlessly into the air, and he dismounted with ease. "Now, let's make a deal: the Eye of Simorely in exchange for a friend."
"Do people like you even understand the value of friendship?" Wickel retorted.
"Mr. Ed..." Marrison looked at Ed uneasily. This was beyond anything he'd expected. Ed wasn't supposed to be part of this operation.
Ed didn't even look at him. "If you're still this ignorant after today, you and your companions can stop working for the Ansendil Family. Stand down."
"Mr. Ed..." One of the mages seemed reluctant to comply.
"No... Let's go." Marrison gestured to his companions. Hearing him, they followed him into the forest. One of the mages, unaware of what was happening, seemed ready to protest, but Marrison quietly said to him, "Don't anger him... The Ansendil Family's freak... has always been unpredictable..."
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Fatenai's head throbbed. She tried to wake herself in her mind, but she couldn't. At last, she felt herself "wake up," only to find herself in a thick fog. She began walking forward, cursing herself all the while.
Why had she so readily trusted that black-haired boy? It was easy enough to figure out. From beginning to end, he'd only wanted to use her. What was all that talk about Wickel's journey to certain death?
Her face turned deathly pale, an even darker shadow falling over her already pallid complexion.
She didn't dare think any further. She suddenly quickened her pace and plunged into the thick fog. As she walked, a different scene appeared before her.
It seemed to be a Stone Platform—with Wickel... and Ed.
"Keep your promise," Wickel said to Ed. His voice sounded muffled by a layer of fog, making it hard for her to hear.
What were they talking about? Wickel was covered in blood. How badly was he hurt?
"Allentia will protect you," Ed said.
What was Ed saying? What was he planning to do?
Fatenai tried to rush over to them, but she couldn't.
Then she saw Wickel raise the dagger in his hand and drive it toward his own chest...
"No!" Fatenai cried out in terror.
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