Time passed as they moved through smaller territories and scattered villages. The road they'd taken wasn't part of the main route—rough and half-forgotten—but it still carried the occasional traveler or merchant.
Every now and then, they'd pass someone Tirandel knew, and he'd wave them down with a familiar greeting from the carriage.
"I feel like I'm travelling with a celebrity." Noah said dryly.
Waving at another carriage moving by them, Tirandel said, "In my line of work, the more acquaintances you have, the better. The one we just passed was from the StormVein Forge."
Seeing Noah's puzzled look, Alice explained, "They supply the lower-tier wands and other mage tools to the Imperial Academy."
'Oh, so that's where Arnold got his fancy gloves…' His thoughts drifted back to the duel he had watched back at the academy.
Elira was still reading her book, a few strands of hair neatly tucked behind her ears.
"I'm assuming your friend made that one himself."
Narrowing his eyes, Noah replied, "Can you please not read my thoughts?"
"I can't stop something I never started," she replied without looking up. "You're just too easy to read."
Noah wanted to retaliate, but something inside told him that he would lose the argument.
"I'm honored you remember him," he said instead. "Even after all that time, I never knew he'd made it himself."
Tirandel chuckled under his breath, struggling to keep a straight face.
"You fool—she's the one who invented the prototype for that glove. Of course she'd recognize it." He broke into laughter again. "Knights really are knuckleheads."
Across from them, Alice was barely holding back a laugh.
'This is the disadvantage of being from the countryside.'
By now, Noah was truly starting to feel embarrassed. Desperate to change the subject, he said, "Anyway, there's something I don't understand."
Tirandel smirked, "Sure you don't."
Alice looked ready to burst, her face flushed red. Noah elbowed Tirandel in the ribs, finally cutting his laughter short.
"Alright, alright," Tirandel coughed. "What don't you understand?"
Turning toward Elira, who was still buried in her book, he said, "All I know about this Iriel person is that she's been kidnapped—yet no one seems worried."
Elira was silent for a moment. Then she closed her book and sighed.
"Well, it is something our entire House is worried about. But unfortunately, it is not the first time she has been kidnapped," she said evenly. "Even I was kidnapped several times. Not to mention the assassination attempts, of course."
There wasn't a trace of fear or sorrow on her face. Even after everything she'd said, Elira's expression stayed perfectly calm.
"It's just something that comes along with reputation and social standing."
"I get what you mean. But, you do realize that if that mage finds himself cornered, he could use her as leverage, right?"
This time, it was Alice who answered, "Don't worry about it. It might look like we are at a disadvantage, but as long as he is in the Empire, we can catch him."
Crossing her arms, she continued. "Right now, our priority is to do that with two things in mind. First—we get her back without drawing attention. That alone's hard enough, since we're dealing with an Ascendant mage. And if things go wrong, we'll be the ones blamed for the casualties."
Tirandel cut in, making Alice pause. "And by casualties, she means people. And lately, the people have been angry."
Noah couldn't help but ask, "Why would the people be angry?"
Tirandel glanced at Leon, who was still meditating. Before he could answer, Elira spoke, "You must've already known, but our Empire has been persistently trying to engulf the surrounding territories and kingdoms for years now."
Her hands clenched into fists as she went on. "But that was the doing of the previous emperor. When His Highness, Emperor Drosamir Eryndral, took the throne, he declared the end to all the wars that were raging. In return, the other nations demanded compensation—and a formal apology."
No one spoke for a while. Noah wasn't well-versed in history—or current affairs—so he finally asked,, "What happened then?"
Tirandel's tone turned rougher than before.
"Then what? Another war, and then another one, and so on. This endless cycle continued till the Artemis Alliance. While it was definitely the end of it all, it was just as bloody and gruesome."
As he spoke, Tirandel's gaze shifted to the window.
"Nice timing," he murmured. "Why don't you look for yourself? In a war, it's not the soldiers who bleed the most—it's the people.
Noah turned to the window; so did Alice and Elira.
On the roadside, countless people trudged by in silence. Some hauled their belongings on makeshift carts; others had nothing—not even shoes.
A mother carried a child in her arms, another girl followed barefoot behind. A man with a crippled leg leaned on a stick that looked ready to snap.
Most walked with their heads down, counting their steps, the fatigue carved deep into their faces.
Then came the soldiers—war veterans and conscripts, their tattered uniforms barely holding together. They dragged carts piled with shrouded bodies, the stench of rot heavy in the air.
Some covered their noses; most didn't bother. It was an odor they'd long grown used to.
Though Noah had never been one to let emotion cloud his judgment, rage simmered as he watched the hollow faces of those with nothing left to live for.
He'd always known that becoming a knight meant making sacrifices—but seeing the victims of someone else's 'necessary' sacrifice made him question what that truly meant.
'Am I going to become like him?'
Everyone knew the name Leon Valcrest. The Grand Marshal and Emperor might have issued the commands, but it was Leon who carried them out, turning orders into rivers of blood.
That was why his name carried no honor among the people—only fear.
He knew it was foolish, yet the words slipped out before he could stop them. "Ironic, isn't it? We feel such remorse just by looking at these people. Yet, the one who orchestrated it all won't even bat an eye."
The carriage went silent. Even Elira looked stunned. Noah realized what he'd just done—insulted a man who could end him without moving from his seat.
Brave or stupid, he couldn't tell. Maybe both.
Tirandel leaned in, whispering harshly, "Hey—are you trying to get us all killed?"
Noah scoffed, "I doubt he even feels anything at all."
Leon's eyes had been closed since they left the capital. But at Noah's words, they opened—slowly, deliberately, like something ancient stirring awake.
When his gaze found Noah, time itself seemed to hold its breath.
A warmth spread through his chest—then tightened, sharp and suffocating. His throat burned, as if needles were threading through it.
"—Cough."
Another came, wet and violent. Blood splattered across his trembling hands.
When he looked down, his chest was sunken inward—his heart crushed in on itself.
Before the thought could form, darkness swallowed him whole.
Leon's voice echoed somewhere in that void, low and unhurried.
"No. I don't."