At the first faint light of dawn, Horace Loux was already up, stretching his body, which had grown somewhat stiff from resting against a stone pillar.
He glanced toward the stone platform. The figure beneath the blanket seemed to be asleep still, her breathing much steadier, though her brow remained slightly furrowed.
Miriel's enormous body basked in the pale golden morning light, like a mountain unchanged since time immemorial.
Without disturbing anyone, Horace Loux quietly left the Church of Vows, retracing his steps and hurrying back toward the hollow in the Eastern Tableland where his people were temporarily staying.
He needed to move his people near the church as soon as possible. There, at least with Miriel's tacit permission, they could find temporary safety and a chance to catch their breath.
With Horace Loux's departure, a brief quiet settled over the church.
There was only the faint moaning of the morning breeze through the ancient window frames, and Miriel's slow, deep breathing.
On the stone platform, the eyelashes of the figure beneath the blanket fluttered slightly.
"He has already left, child," Miriel's gentle voice sounded.
Rellana did not move beneath the blanket, nor did she answer, as though she were still asleep.
Miriel paid it no mind and continued in its slow cadence, "I can understand the shame, anger, and resentment pent up in your heart. Yet the intertwining of fates often begins with the most unexpected encounters."
Rellana remained silent.
"This Church of Vows lies in a remote place. Very few members of the Carian Family are willing to set foot here." Miriel seemed to be talking to itself, yet also seemed to be speaking for the benefit of someone pretending to sleep.
"What brought you here on this journey?"
"A passing whim? Or some mysterious pull? Just as that young warrior last night was guided here by an inexplicable 'feeling.' And you, knight of Caria, did you feel a similar call?"
A corner of the blanket was abruptly thrown back, revealing Rellana's pale face and its complicated expression.
She stopped pretending to sleep, but did not look at Miriel either. She merely stared at the church's weathered dome, her voice somewhat dry. "...I never should have come."
She muttered under her breath in vexation.
"I regret not listening to my sister..."
Her elder sister, Rennala, the current de facto leader of the Carian Family, had tried to dissuade her.
Steady and far-sighted, Rennala had recently felt a similarly subtle, indescribable pull. But family affairs kept her busy, and the friction with the academy required her personal attention, leaving her unable to get away.
She had intended for her younger sister to bring a squad of Glintstone Knights to investigate. But Rellana, confident in her own strength, thought bringing a large force would be making a fuss over nothing, and ultimately chose to come alone.
Thinking back now, if she had followed her sister's advice...at least she would not have ended up in such a sorry state.
"Fate's arrangements do not always present themselves in the most comfortable fashion," Miriel said slowly.
"But every crossing of paths may hold profound meaning. Perhaps this is precisely the beginning of a bond between you and that warrior, that tribe from afar, and even your own path."
"A bond?" Rellana finally turned to look at Miriel, lingering anger and a trace of barely perceptible confusion in her eyes.
"With that...that overbearing, ill-mannered barbarian who twists right and wrong? I would rather have no such 'bond'!" Her words were full of resistance.
Miriel said no more, merely watching her gently.
Silence returned to the church. Rellana lay back down and covered her head with the blanket, as though trying to shut herself off from the world.
Whatever Miriel said afterward, she kept her "quills of rejection" raised, neither speaking nor moving.
This stalemate continued until nearly noon.
When Horace Loux returned to the vicinity of the church with his people provisionally settled, and came ahead to speak with Miriel, this was the scene that greeted him:
The morning glow had become bright daylight, casting patches of colored light and shadow through the church's stained glass.
The giant tortoise Miriel rested peacefully.
On the stone platform, the lady knight remained wrapped in her blanket, her back to the entrance, radiating an intense air of rejection that said, "strangers stay away, and acquaintances too."
Horace Loux first bowed solemnly to Miriel. "Thank you again for your generous protection, Lord Miriel. My people have temporarily settled on the outskirts. They will not disturb the church's peace, and they will abide by its rules."
Miriel gave a slight nod.
Only then did Horace Loux turn his gaze to the stone platform. Clearing his throat, he spoke in a reasonably polite tone. "My dear lady knight, after a night to reflect, I believe you should have calmed down enough to take a more rational view of the issue between us."
"Who are you calling 'dear'?!" A low growl of suppressed fury immediately came from beneath the blanket.
The form of address made Rellana bristle instantly, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Even through the blanket, one could imagine her flushed face.
Horace Loux raised his eyebrows and readily corrected himself. "Very well, knight. Regarding last night's misunderstanding and the aid that followed, I believe we need to reach a basic understanding, so that-"
"There is no understanding!" Rellana interrupted him, her voice muffled by the blanket, but her "quills of rejection" grew sharper still.
Horace Loux tried bringing up his "bandit reasoning" again, attempting to break the deadlock with "logic."
This time, however, Rellana had learned her lesson—or perhaps she had become calm after reaching a certain degree of anger. She simply refused to respond. Whatever Horace Loux said, she let it go in one ear and out the other, answering only with silence and that intangible aura of rejection.
Just as Horace Loux frowned, considering how to break the impasse, Miriel offered a perfectly timed "assist."
"It is getting late. It is time to change the injured patient's dressing," the giant tortoise said slowly, looking toward the bundle of medicinal herbs Horace Loux had brought.
Horace Loux took the hint and walked to the stone platform.
This time, Rellana did not resist as fiercely as she had the night before.
After her initial breakdown and a night of "cooling off," and with her wounds genuinely needing attention, she seemed to have developed a little "resistance."
When Horace Loux lifted the blanket and prepared to undo the bandages to inspect her wounds, her body merely went rigid. Biting her lower lip hard, she turned her head aside and closed her eyes, looking resigned to "do whatever you want."
Horace Loux deftly inspected and cleaned the wounds, then applied fresh medicine.
With the ointment and Rellana's own powerful recuperative ability, her wounds were already showing clear signs of improvement.
Throughout the process, Rellana gave no other reaction beyond an involuntary, barely audible grunt when the ointment touched the most sensitive injury. But the flush on her averted face spread all the way to her collarbones.
After changing the medicine and reapplying the bandages, Horace Loux stepped back a few paces. An even stranger silence settled over the church.
Horace Loux was considering how to use Rellana as a "key" to open the door to communication with Caria;
Rellana continued maintaining her "defensive stance" of silence being golden;
Miriel, meanwhile, watched these two awkward young people with the helpless affection of a family elder.
Just then, Uncle Uge poked his head in from outside the church. He had come to report on the initial arrangements for their people.
The seasoned warrior took in the subtle atmosphere inside the church at a glance and wisely refrained from entering. Standing at the entrance, he lowered his voice and briefly informed Horace Loux that the camp had been provisionally set up, sentries and hunting parties had been arranged, and everything was stable.
After delivering his report, Uge promptly left. Before leaving, he cast a meaningful glance at the lady knight on the stone platform, whose exposed cheek and ear were outrageously red, and muttered inwardly, What has my lord...done to that young lady?
Stars and Moon had originally been one, and the Astrologers had made no distinction between stars and moon.
Their descendants, the sorcerers, however, had split into the star faction and the moon faction.
The mainstream True Magic of the True Magic Academy was Glintstone Sorcery, which revered the stars, while Rennala's True Magic was Moon True Magic, which revered the full moon.
To the academy, Moon True Magic was a heretical presence, as reflected in the Lazuli Robe's equipment description:
[Among the sorcery apprentices of Raya Lucaria,
a robe worn by those studying in the Lazuli Conspectus.
They wear robes the color of the full moon, study Carian True Magic,
and regard the moon and stars as equals, making them heretics.]
The Carian knights were few in number, but formidable in battle.
Carian Knight's Sword: [A straight sword embedded with blue glintstone. A weapon wielded by knights serving the Carian Royal Family. Said to number fewer than twenty, these knights used their swords as catalysts to perform True Magic combat skills, matching the golden heroes in fighting strength.]
Caria was very accepting, though in a sense, that was also out of necessity.
The Carian Royal Family had no shortage of top-tier fighters, but very few in the middle ranks. The True Magic Academy was precisely the opposite, with no top-tier fighters but an abundance in the middle ranks.
That was why the royal family sought so many allies: they lacked fighting strength. Caria Manor even had hands, things that belonged in the sewers in Leyndell.
They even had to rely on True Magic arrays to resist the Cuckoo Knights, showing how terribly the royal family had declined after the Queen of the Full Moon lost her mind.
Before you continue