The good news was, the volcano didn't erupt.
A villager stood frozen in place, quietly watching the heavy raindrops falling over the sky of Sanchel Town.
"The volcano… didn't erupt…"
"That's great! It didn't erupt!"
From somewhere in the crowd came a joyful shout, instantly igniting the villagers' excitement.
"That's great! The disaster's over!"
"Oh, heavens! Thank the gods!"
"No, no, no! It was the royal mages who saved us!"
This rainfall was like a miracle, washing away all signs of danger.
The mages and knights who had arrived one after another at Sanchel Town relaxed their tightly knit brows, yet their hearts did not. Instead, they felt an indescribable heaviness.
Everyone remained silent, like puppets on strings walking without a soul.
The townspeople, unaware of the truth, walked out of the safety zone and returned to their homes, offering thanks to the "heroes" who had "saved" them.
Yet, not a single mage could face them and proudly say, "No need to thank us."
They hadn't saved these innocent people. In fact, even they themselves had almost perished atop that volcano.
Yes, just barely.
The grand magic formation had never been released.
If the volcano had erupted back then, every mage sent from the royal capital would have been buried beneath that world-ending sea of lava.
Under the falling rain, the townsfolk gradually returned to their homes.
The army began escorting the mages back to the capital. Duke Levi stood in the pouring rain, letting the storm lash against his face.
When the last group of mages departed, Count Baker looked back from afar, gave the Duke a long glance, and shook his head.
"Farewell, Duke."
He spoke those words with visible effort, his tone carrying undisguised dissatisfaction. Even the hand gripping his cane trembled slightly.
"Duke Levi, I understand your concern for your daughter. But before acting so recklessly, please remember your position."
"When you return to the capital this time, you'll likely face impeachment from several ministers. Please… take care of yourself."
Having said that, the noble mage climbed into his carriage and departed under military escort.
From beginning to end, Duke Levi never lifted his head or uttered a word in reply.
The surrounding knights worried that standing in the rain would make the Duke ill, after all, mages' bodies weren't as hardy as theirs.
One of them called out, "My lord Duke, please wait in the carriage. Knight-Captain Gwen is still searching for your daughter."
But Duke Levi didn't respond. He stood there motionless, rain drenching him completely, his eyes blank and lifeless.
Then, through the stormy darkness, a silver-white figure suddenly appeared, like the dawn breaking through the night.
In her arms, she carried a golden-haired girl.
The Duke's dim eyes instantly lit up with the glow of hope.
Gwen approached and gently handed Erica into his arms.
"Mission accomplished, Your Grace."
With trembling hands, Duke Levi took Erica, holding her tightly in his embrace, his eyes full of shock and sorrow.
"Erica… Erica…"
The soft sound of her father's voice seemed to rouse Erica. She slowly lifted her eyelids, saw her familiar father's face, and forced a faint smile.
"Father, I'm back."
At that moment, the man who held the highest rank and authority in the Calencia Empire, cried.
He had once stood tall and unyielding, but he couldn't even protect his own daughter.
He was filled with shame.
Duke Levi hugged his daughter tightly, but all he got in return was her pained whimper.
Only then did he notice the burns all over Erica's body. In a panic, he tried to heal her with magic, but the results were poor.
Not every mage was a monster like Viktor, who had mastered hundreds of spells and could wield them with ease.
The Duke's healing magic could only treat light wounds. Against such severe burns, he was completely powerless.
He looked around frantically, hoping to find a mage skilled in healing, but there were none left nearby. Only the knights still standing in place, waiting for orders.
Seeing the Duke's distress, Gwen hesitated for a moment before taking out a crimson potion.
The liquid inside looked like blood, dark red with a faint black sheen that shimmered eerily.
It was a healing potion Viktor had given her. She'd never used it before and didn't know how effective it was.
But if Erica wasn't treated soon, the burns would surely leave permanent damage.
She could only take a gamble.
Clenching her teeth, Gwen decided to trust that Viktor wouldn't deceive her.
"Your Grace, perhaps try this."
"If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility."
She handed the potion over. Duke Levi took it anxiously, froze for a moment when he saw its blood-like color, and hesitated.
A potion that looked this much like blood, could it really be drinkable?
But right now, there was no other choice. Erica's injuries couldn't wait.
He pulled out the cork and gently brought it to Erica's lips, asking absently, "Where did you get this potion?"
"It was… given to me by my fiancé."
The potion slid past Erica's lips, and Duke Levi's hand trembled slightly.
'Gwen Delin's fiancé?'
"Viktor Clavenna?"
"Yes."
Gwen lowered her head, embarrassed. She knew the Duke and Viktor had had their conflicts, but now wasn't the time to dwell on such things.
And just then, something miraculous happened.
The moment Erica drank the potion, it was as if she had received the blessing of the Goddess of Healing herself.
The burns on her body began to heal visibly, at a speed one could see with the naked eye.
New skin seemed to form, smooth as before.
The Duke was completely stunned.
'First the blue potion, and now this crimson elixir…'
'This terrifying level of effectiveness, how was it even possible?'
Gwen, too, widened her eyes in disbelief, staring at the scene before her.
She had never used that potion before and had never imagined it would be this powerful.
With such a frightening recovery effect, even someone on the verge of death could probably come back to life.
But even though Erica's wounds had healed, she didn't open her eyes.
Her spirit was utterly drained. The fact that she had even awoken once in her father's arms was already a miracle.
Now that the pain had vanished, she could finally rest peacefully.
Duke Levi personally carried Erica to the carriage to rest. When he returned, he bowed deeply to Gwen.
"My heartfelt thanks, Captain Gwen."
"Please allow me to properly express my gratitude once we return to the capital. That, of course, will include your fiancé as well."
Hearing the Duke's words, Gwen was momentarily taken aback.
She watched as the now-composed Duke climbed into the carriage. The horses began to move, and soon the carriage, along with the rest of the troops, slowly departed.
Taking a deep breath, Gwen turned toward the stable and looked at the white horse that still had no owner.
It was calmly eating grass, seemingly unaware that its rider, Viktor, had vanished.
'Viktor, where did you go?'
The rain hadn't stopped. She put on her helmet, shielding herself from the wind and rain, and mounted her horse.
Before leaving, she gave the lonely white horse one last look.
If you still have a conscience, if you still remember me, then ride that horse and come find me.
It won't die, at least, not before seeing me again.
She turned her steed and led her knights away.
With the sound of clattering armor and hooves splashing through the mud, Sanchel Town finally returned to silence.
———
After the baptism of heavy rain, sunlight broke through the clouds, and the sky turned clear and blue.
A few days later, the townsfolk of Sanchel had resumed their normal, peaceful lives, as though they'd already forgotten those terrifying days.
But the area in front of the inn was anything but peaceful.
"Hey, that white horse looks amazing. How about you give it to me, huh?"
A burly, fat man stood before the stable, glaring fiercely at the innkeeper.
They'd had their eyes on that white horse for days now. No one had come to claim it, so they assumed it was abandoned.
But the innkeeper was stubborn and flatly refused their bullying demand.
"A knight paid a great price for us to take care of that horse properly."
The big man burst out laughing. "Those folks from the capital left four or five days ago! That horse's been abandoned!"
"Yeah, that's right! Boss never gets it wrong!" his lackeys chimed in.
"If you can pay more than he did, then fine," the innkeeper said, his tone mocking as he looked down on the troublemakers.
The men exchanged glances. "How much did he pay you?"
"This much."
The innkeeper raised one hand and waved it before them.
"Fifty? Hahaha! I'll pay a hundred!"
The innkeeper shook his head. The man hesitated and asked again, "Five hundred?"
Still no response. The innkeeper kept staring at them.
"It's five thousand," he said finally.
At that number, the men erupted in fury.
"You bastard! Five thousand Geos for a damn horse?"
"Are you trying to rip us off?"
They rolled up their sleeves, ready to strike. The innkeeper raised his hands to shield his face, backing away in fear,
But the punch never landed. Instead, he heard a scream of agony.
He opened his eyes and froze in disbelief.
A massive, lava-covered hand had appeared, gripping the leader by the neck and lifting him into the air.
The man was suddenly dangling midair, utterly confused.
He didn't even know what had happened.
The others, terrified, followed the hand's length with their eyes, and at its end, they saw a man wearing a dark cloak.
On his shoulder perched a strange one-eyed crow, cawing noisily.
Behind him stretched a molten arm made entirely of magma.
The black cloak bore faint red patterns that seemed to pulse with flowing lava.
"That's my horse. Do you have a problem with that?"
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