"Abandon my white robe here?"
Bernahl held up the white robe Miquella had discarded, looking disgusted. "Send this trophy to our leaders. We keep chasing!"
"Yes, sir!"
The moonlight was like an eye that never closed, staring relentlessly at every inch of the Land of Shadow.
Miquella had never been so bedraggled.
Wrapped in Leda's blue cloak, he huddled behind a rock, panting heavily. That damned moonlight shone directly above his head, as though announcing to the entire world: I'm here! Come catch me!
"Damn it!" Leda stared up at the sky, gritting her teeth. "This must be some foul sorcery cast by that villain Tarnished! Tracking us with such underhanded methods-utterly shameless!"
Miquella shook his head.
"It isn't foul sorcery," he said softly. "I can sense a complete, independent new law within that moonlight. This isn't mortal handiwork. It's the power of a god."
Leda was shocked. "The power of a god? How could someone like Tarnished deserve a deity's protection?!"
"Calm yourself, Sir Leda." Miquella raised a hand to soothe her. "I know you have your grievances with him, but setting our allegiances aside, Tarnished truly is a remarkable individual."
Leda froze.
Miquella continued, "With a mortal body, he united the people and restored order, accomplishing what even deities could not. Isn't it only natural for someone like that to earn the favor of other deities?"
"But-"
"I even admire him a little." Miquella smiled faintly.
Leda hurriedly dropped to her knees. "Lord Miquella! You needn't belittle yourself! Tarnished is nothing but a treacherous rebel!"
"A treacherous rebel, indeed." Miquella chuckled. "But the Lands Between have always belonged to whoever was strong enough to claim them. Didn't my mother Marika and the Golden Lineage win their dominion through conquest? Tarnished raised an army and seized power by force.