Sora, Louise, and Wardes made their way up a winding mountain road not far from the city of La Rochelle, heading toward a massive dead tree that towered sixty meters into the sky.namu+1
An airship was moored along its huge branches, and wooden walkways and platforms had been built into the trunk like a hanging port. By early evening, the three of them had reached the tree and boarded the vessel.namu
"Hold on—what's with this ticket?" Sora demanded.
He stared at the slip in his hand: a pass for the cargo hold. Then he looked over at the VIP cabin tickets in Wardes' and Louise's hands. A vein pulsed on his forehead as he glared at Wardes.
Wardes smiled. "You're a familiar. The cargo hold is meant for familiars. If you don't like it, you're free not to come."
"Tch." Sora shot him a murderous look, but still stepped aboard.
"Sora, you can come to my room instead. We can squeeze in," Louise said.
"That won't do. I still have things to discuss with Louise," Wardes cut in, reaching to steer her away.
Sora turned his head slowly, resting his hand on Delflinger's hilt as he leveled a cold stare at Wardes.
"For a familiar, you're awfully possessive," Wardes muttered, releasing her hand.
"Don't let me see you trying anything with Louise," Sora said flatly. He glanced at her, and Louise promptly shook off Wardes and followed Sora.
They went down first to Sora's assigned quarters in the cargo bay.
At the bottom of the airship, stacks of passengers' luggage and crates filled the space, with not even a proper place to lie down. In one corner, a heap of hay had been tossed together as bedding for beasts and familiars.namu
"Sora, come to my room tonight. There's no way you can sleep here," Louise said, clearly displeased. "Wardes definitely did this on purpose."
"It's fine. I'll come to your room later," Sora replied with a shrug.
"Okay. I'll be waiting," Louise said, nodding.
They returned to the lower passenger deck, where the VIP cabins were far more comfortable: each private room had its own furnishings—plush bedding, wine, even oil paintings on the walls. Louise's room was right beside Wardes'.
"I'd like to discuss certain details about this mission. Could we speak alone for a while, Louise?" Wardes asked, waiting outside her door.
Louise glanced uncertainly at Sora.
Sora nodded. "If anything happens, call me."
Louise opened the door and let Wardes in.
Sora leaned casually against the doorframe, listening for any suspicious sounds from inside.
Not long after they had gone in, a cloaked figure passed in front of Sora.
Strands of long blue hair spilled out from beneath the hood.
Sora watched the figure disappear at the end of the corridor, an uneasy sense of familiarity prickling at him. That cloak. That blue hair.
Fouquet…?
Wasn't she supposed to be locked up?
She might well have been behind the attack the previous night.
Following that suspicion, Sora pushed off from the wall and went after her.
Almost like a taunt, every time he reached a corner, he would glimpse her cloak just vanishing from view.
Step by step, she led him downward, until he found himself once again at the cargo hold in the bottom of the airship.
The storage bay, full of luggage and goods, was silent.
Sora's footsteps echoed in the still air.
"I know you're there. Come out," Sora called, testing her.
The cloaked figure—Fouquet—had deliberately lured him here to separate him from Louise.
Hidden deep in the shadow of a cargo stack, she peered out at him, exposing half her face.
She could see bandages poking out beneath his clothes, but his movements didn't look too impaired.
If I don't finish the job, he might become a real threat, she thought.
Fouquet drew her wand from her chest and leveled it at Sora, quietly taking aim.
Sora scanned the room, but couldn't find any trace of her.
She was a former thief, after all; her ability to conceal herself was excellent.
His eyes narrowed slightly. Then he turned his back as if giving up.
"Guess I was seeing things. Nobody here," he muttered, walking toward the stairs.
At the threshold, just as he was about to leave, Fouquet couldn't resist the opportunity and attacked his "unguarded" back.
Stepping from the shadows, she raised her wand and recited quickly.
"Gru Os Rey." [Earth Cone]
Magic surged from the wand, condensing into a one-meter-long, hardened earthen spike in midair. Under Fouquet's control, it shot straight toward Sora's spine.
Hooked, Sora thought.
He'd never stopped paying attention to his surroundings. The moment he heard the telltale rumble of magic, he spun and swung his sword to meet it.
"Keng!"
Delflinger's sharp edge sliced clean through the earthen spear, and the severed chunks thudded to the floor at Sora's feet.
Fouquet, having missed her mark, darted sideways and melted back into the shadows.
Sora immediately charged in her direction. "So it was you, Fouquet."
"Were you behind last night's attack too? What are you after?" he demanded.
But once he reached the spot where she had disappeared, there was no sign of her.
From above, Fouquet had climbed onto a stack of cargo, lying along the top like a spider as she peered down at Sora passing beneath her.
As he moved under her position, she struck.
Launching herself down, she drew the green-bladed dagger at her waist and slashed for his neck.
"Partner, above!" Delflinger warned first.
Sora kicked forward, sprinting four or five meters before spinning and bringing his sword up in response, narrowly avoiding her ambush.
Fouquet clicked her tongue and retreated into the darkness again, raising the green-stained dagger to her own throat in a mock threat, then fading once more into the shadows.
"This is bad, partner. She's really good at hiding," Delflinger muttered.
Sora raised his sword and moved forward carefully.
His nerves were more tightly wound than when he'd fought Wardes.
An attack from nowhere was far deadlier than one he could see coming.
Yet in this sharpened tension, Sora slipped into a deeper state of focus.
His battered body—riddled with pain and half-healed wounds—began to feel strangely aligned, as if his senses and muscles finally synchronized.
He could even feel the faint flow of the air as he exhaled.
His grandfather, who had taught him swordsmanship, had once said that the best way to deal with assassins in the dark was to remain centered and unshaken. Adjust yourself, not the world.
When the enemy strikes—when they lose the shelter of stealth—that is when you must unleash your fiercest attack and crush them.
So this is what he meant, Sora realized.
A slight smile tugged at his lips as he did something unexpected—he closed his eyes.
He let every inch of skin, every pore, feel the currents of air and the rise of killing intent around him.
Planting his feet firmly, he stopped wandering aimlessly and instead held his ground, both hands on the sword hilt, as if offering a formal salute to empty space.
"What are you doing, partner? Have you lost it?" Delflinger yelped.
Hidden in the dark, Fouquet hesitated.
His behavior was so strange she didn't dare move.
Minutes ticked by. Sora remained exactly the same, unmoving, like a statue.
Is he an idiot? This is such a perfect chance. Fine—I'll take your head, Fouquet decided.
She began to chant silently.
The moment the spell finished, her eyes flashed, and she sprang.
"Boom!"
A wooden crate directly behind Sora was suddenly pierced through by an earthen spike, and Fouquet burst out from inside, using the shortest route and fastest speed to stab him with the deadliest strike she could manage.
"Behind—" Delflinger started.
But before he could finish, Sora had already pivoted and swung his sword—his reaction quicker than even the Sword of Wisdom's warning, his strike faster and stronger than any he'd unleashed before.
"Clang!"
Delflinger sheared straight through the poisoned dagger, and the blade then continued on, slicing across Fouquet's abdomen.
Blood sprayed, hanging in the air in a red arc.
"Ugh—ahh—" Fouquet dropped the broken dagger and clutched at her stomach, overcome by agony.
Sora opened his eyes and watched her writhe on the ground nearby.
"H-help me," Fouquet gasped.
She stared at the widening gash in her abdomen as blood seeped out, soaking her blue-gray robe. Her voice trembled in fear as she begged Sora.
"Huff… huff…"
Sora steadied his breathing. Maintaining that elevated state had been rare for him, and it had taken a toll.
The motion of swinging the sword had reopened some of his own wounds, and fresh blood seeped from beneath his bandages.
He frowned as Fouquet crawled toward him in tears. Then he turned away.
With half her abdomen cut open, she would bleed out and die without treatment.
"Louise is in danger!!" Fouquet suddenly screamed, seeing him about to leave.
Sora's boots thudded against the floor as he halted.
He turned back and walked toward her, looking down from above.
"Talk," he said.
"S-save me… and I'll tell you," Fouquet replied weakly.
With her blood loss growing worse, her vision dimmed and her voice faded.
Sora stared at her for a long moment, then let out a cold little laugh.
He reached into his coat and produced two small vials, placing them in front of her. One held a purple liquid, the other red.
"One is a healing potion. It'll stop the bleeding and help your wound close. The other is a forbidden drug—it makes whoever drinks it completely obedient to the first person they see afterward. Choose."
Fouquet's eyes widened as she stared at the two bottles.
She could feel the warmth leaving her body, the chill of death creeping in and crushing every other emotion.
With a sudden, desperate movement, she grabbed both vials and swallowed them down.
"Heh," Sora snorted.
The medicine from the royal capital was good quality.
After about two minutes, Fouquet's wound stopped bleeding and began to knit itself together.
Pale and shaking, she pushed herself up from the floor.
Her lips trembled as she lifted her gaze toward Sora.
At first glance, there was no visible glow or aura around him—no dramatic effect.
But inside, something had shifted.
The anger and hatred she'd carried for him—for capturing her and ruining her plan to steal the Staff of Destruction—were gone.
In their place surged a hot, breathless panic as she looked at him, cheeks flushing.
So this is the obedience drug… Fouquet thought, quickly lowering her head, unable to meet his eyes.
"Since you drank the forbidden drug, you'll be absolutely loyal to me now. So tell me: what danger is Louise in?" Sora asked coolly.
"Yes," Fouquet answered. "After I was defeated by you, my lord, I was imprisoned in the royal dungeon. Not long after that, Viscount Wardes secretly freed me and brought me into their organization—the Reconquest Alliance. This time I'm here to assist Wardes in assassinating Prince Wales, so that Albion will fall into the Alliance's hands."
"Reconquest Alliance… So the Albion rebels are part of it too?" Sora asked.
"Not exactly. But the leader of the rebels, Lord Cromwell, is a senior member of the Reconquest Alliance. And, Lord Sora… Lord Cromwell is a man who can use legendary Void magic."
"Void?" Sora frowned slightly.
The Headmaster had told him there were four familiars and four users of Void.
So other Void mages existing besides Louise wasn't impossible.
"Why is Louise in danger?" Sora pressed.
"Wardes seems unusually attached to her. I suspect it's because he knows she's a Void user," Fouquet said respectfully.
"Louise being a Void user—how did you figure that out?" Sora asked.
"Last night, I controlled the earth golem and attacked you, my lord. I saw Louise destroy it with a white light. Magic that powerful, with that nature… it can only be Void," Fouquet whispered, head bowed in fear.
That explanation fit together perfectly in Sora's mind.
Wardes… if you dare to lay a hand on Louise, I'll kill you, he thought, eyes turning steely.
"For now, you'll keep pretending to be Wardes' ally. When I give the signal, you'll turn on him. Understood?" Sora said coldly.
Fouquet looked up at him, then immediately looked down again, cheeks burning. "Yes, my lord."
Sora turned and ran for Louise's room.
He pounded on the door. "Louise!"
"What is it, Sora?"
Louise opened up, blinking in confusion at his urgent expression.
Seeing her perfectly unharmed—and Wardes already gone—Sora finally allowed himself to breathe out.
He smiled, his gaze softening. "It's nothing. You were in there so long, I started to worry."
"Don't worry. Wardes was just telling me about Albion's situation," Louise said. "The crown prince is in real danger. It sounds like the rebels are going to win."
"That has nothing to do with us. We just need to get that letter back," Sora replied.
"But Wales is a good person… Can't we save him too, Sora?" Louise asked, eyes full of hope.
"We can't do anything about that yet. For now, we need to focus on finishing Anrietta's mission," Sora said, shaking his head. He reached out and ruffled her hair gently.
Wardes, seeing this little scene from down the hall, clicked his tongue and turned away, stalking back to his own room with a cold snort.
Sora just grinned and stepped inside with Louise, closing the door behind them.