The sharp and blissful scent of herbs lingered in the ward — not just any herbs, but the kind reserved for nobles and high-ranking adventurers.
Waking up in a medical ward had never felt so peaceful. The bed was soft, the blanket warm, the air calm enough to almost make me forget everything that happened.
Almost.
Until I saw Miquella sitting beside me.
Not exactly the face I wanted to see after what I'd just gone through.
"So, you finally woke up, huh?" she said in her sharp, mocking tone.
"To be honest, I never expected much from you. But you've managed to surprise me. Battling a Rayland Sheep, surviving the Scarlet Mist of Meousereptor — all while carrying Rodeao. I didn't think you had it in you."
"It was Sylvia who saved me, wasn't it?"
The words came out before I could stop them. My mind froze on that single thought, frustration burning behind my eyes. The feeling of neglect — the one I thought I'd buried long ago — came back to haunt me.
Why her? Why did she have to be the one to save me?
I exhaled slowly, the exhaustion cutting through my voice.
"I've never seen someone look so depressed after being saved," Miquella mused. "Especially when it's Sylvia Corneas. Most people dream of getting that kind of attention. You share a history with her, don't you?"
She'd seen straight through me — just like always.
Even when I tried to hide my emotions, Miquella was one of the few who could read me like an open book.
"I just… know her from childhood. That's all." I tried to deflect.
"Oh, really?" Her smile deepened — elegant, but unsettling. Her eyes locked onto mine, sharp and unreadable. For the first time since waking up, I felt genuinely uneasy.
"The Valnerias are impressed by your work," she continued. "Especially Lady Mary. The family has requested your presence at their upcoming party. Consider it an obligation."
A noble party — just what I needed.
As I opened my mouth to refuse, her tone shifted — colder.
"Don't even think about denying it. It's not up to you. The Valnerias decide, not you. And… the consequences for refusal can be quite severe. I trust you understand."
She stood, leaving a sealed invitation letter on my lap.
"I'll be accompanying you," she added before walking out.
I sighed, rubbing my temples. Sometimes, I truly didn't understand the Valnerias' obsession with adventurers and skilled laborers.
After changing into my regular clothes, I checked my arm — regenerated, though still stiff and unnatural. It would take weeks to function properly. My chest ached, my vision still hazy, but I could move. That was enough.
Before leaving, I wanted to see Rodeao one last time.
He lay unconscious, his breathing steady. According to Miquella, the healers were still working on his condition — but his mana signature looked stable now.
Guess my hard work hadn't been in vain.
As I turned to leave, something caught my eye — a faint shimmer beneath his collarbone.
A mark.
It pulsed softly, glowing and fading in rhythm with his heartbeat.
It wasn't there before.
My pulse quickened. The healers' reports hadn't mentioned anything like this. Was this connected to the cult? Or… to the Valnerias?
I stepped into the hallway.
That was when a faint wave of mana brushed past me — quiet, deliberate.
Someone was watching.
The feeling was familiar… indistinct yet eerily similar to what I'd felt back in the Scarlet Forest of Death.
We weren't alone.
Something — or someone — had followed us out of that dungeon.