"Master Mentor!" The witches rushed forward in panic upon seeing Hakkara collapse.
"Fool! Cough, cough..." She clutched her wound, feeling her lower body go numb. "Go, kill that traitor!" Meanwhile, Nightingale had already vanished into the mist with Wendy.
At the crossroads, she saw Wendy's unconscious forearm had turned black with venom spreading rapidly. With no time to hesitate, she gritted her teeth, yanked up the sleeve, secured the upper arm with a cloth bandage, and pulled out a bladeless dagger from her shoe sole, thrusting it downward with force.
After thirty minutes of meticulous work, she severed Wendy's entire arm, carefully removed the cloak, and meticulously wrapped it up before securing two straps tightly behind her back. If she could return to Border Town alive, Nana Wa would restore the severed limb to its original state.
But... can one really return alive?
It took her three days to reach this place alone, and moving stealthily would only slow her down. If she moved too quickly and accidentally slipped down the path, she wasn't sure she could climb back up.
Wendy's arm was still bleeding profusely. If this continued, she wouldn't last three or four days. Yet Nightingale had no choice—she couldn't abandon Wendy, who had been injured for her own sake.
"Need help?" Hearing the sudden inquiry, the Nightingale immediately unfurled its mist and assumed a defensive stance.
But there was no one in front of her.
"Don't be nervous, I don't want to fight you." Nightingale lifted her head and saw the other floating in midair. "Who are you?" "I'm Lightning. I just joined the Guild of Assistants. I'm out running around all day. It's normal you don't know me," she said with a feigned smile. "But I do know you—the legendary Nightingale, the Shadow Assassin." "Hakara sent you?" "No, no, don't misunderstand," Lightning descended slowly, landing on one foot. "I want to follow you." Nightingale momentarily doubted she'd heard correctly. "What?" "You said we should have the freedom to choose our own lifestyles," she paused. "I chose to follow you—that's all." "Why... why?" Nightingale had already lost all faith in the Guild of Assistants. Even Wendy couldn't fully trust her. The girl before her—still a child, about fourteen or fifteen years old, similar to Nana Wa—had crisp golden short hair, a radiant face, and words brimming with confidence beyond her years. She wasn't wearing the Guild's robes but a fitted long coat and trousers for mobility, paired with an old leather jacket full of pockets and patches, and two thick leather belts from somewhere she'd found. At first glance, she looked like a man.
"Because of what you described—those black machines breathing white steam, turning to stone-gray powder at the slightest touch of water, and snowflakes bursting into thunderous explosions—I want to see them," she declared with a proud head. "I'm determined to become an explorer, and naturally, I'll go to fascinating places." What kind of justification was that... Nightingale froze, her words sounding utterly out of place, yet her subconscious kept telling her the other person wasn't lying.
"I don't get it... If you want to be an adventurer, why join the Guild of Mutual Aid?" "Not an adventurer, but an explorer!" Lightning insisted. "I'm not like those who take money for favors. Adventurers are just wolves who do whatever dirty work they can. Explorers act purely out of passion! As for joining the Guild..." She argued with conviction. "Isn't finding the Holy Mountain a grand adventure? But Halkara doesn't grasp the essence of exploration. She's completely obsessed with that ancient book, mechanically linking every discovery along the way to its records. A stone gate rising from the earth? Just two weathered pillars. If she keeps this up, she'll never find the true Holy Mountain. An explorer must honestly document everything they see. Following maps isn't what explorers do – that's what my father keeps telling me!" Though tempted to ask who her father was to raise such a peculiar daughter, Nightingale knew now wasn't the time for idle talk. Wendy's life hung by a thread. Since the other party meant no harm, having an extra helper was a good thing.
"Your ability is flight?" "Hmm," Lightning nodded. "Even dragging the two of you along, I can move as swiftly as the wind." "Then I shall trouble you." Nightingale swiftly tied Wendy behind her, then climbed onto Lightning's back, her arms encircling his chest.
"Uh... it's really heavy," Lightning said, gritting his teeth as he rose slowly. "I suppose... maybe... it can't move forward like the wind."
The two alternated their flight. When Lightning grew exhausted, Nightingale carried her through the mist. Once she regained strength, Nightingale would perch on her back, letting her carry on flying.
The Nightingale would only probe her with basic questions—such as her father, her family—when both were exhausted and had to stop to rest.
Lightning claimed her father was the world's greatest explorer, whose footsteps spanned every ocean. He commanded a fleet of ocean-going ships, and his crew affectionately called him Thunder. Her mother had passed away when she was young, leaving her with few memories. During a stormy voyage, the ship ran aground and sank, and she was swept by ocean currents to a small island, losing contact with her father. On the island, Lightning used the knowledge and skills her father had taught her to survive for nearly two months, and in winter, she awakened as a Witch.
She then journeyed westward across the strait to the southern border of Graycastle, and after many twists and turns, finally joined the Society of Mutual Aid. She believed that as long as she persisted in her quest, she would one day reunite with her father in some wondrous place—if he were still alive.
The Nightingale failed to extract much useful information from these conversations. Her ability was limited to discerning whether the speaker was lying, but not to assess the veracity of the content. In other words, if someone claimed that the sun is square and held this belief firmly, the system would still deem it true.
Yet certain clues can be deduced. For instance, she must have been born into a wealthy family—families struggling to make ends meet would never have the means for exploration, and the existence of a long-distance shipping fleet corroborates this theory. Thus, Thunder might have been the true identity of a wealthy merchant with vast maritime wealth. Moreover, her blonde hair doesn't seem to belong to the bloodline of the Kingdom Continent, but rather resembles that of the people from the fjords across the sea.
During this period, Wendy regained consciousness several times. Nightingale exerted considerable effort to administer a few sips of water to her, after which she quickly fell back into a coma. As Nightingale perceived the progressively decreasing body temperature of the patient, her anxiety intensified.
With the two of them alternating their pace, the treacherous mountain pass that normally took three days was completed in just a day and a half. At the entrance, the horse Prince had brought remained tethered, its stack of wheat straw before it having been devoured by half.
The nightingale, carrying Wendy on its back, leaped onto the horse and led Lightning in a relentless charge toward Border Town.