Chapter 145 – Silver Ward’s Oath

  The notice arrived at dawn.

  It did not scream.

  It did not burn the sky red.

  It simply hung on the guild board like a blade waiting to fall.

  By noon, the entire frontier town knew.

  By evening, three men had already decided they would defy a kingdom for one girl.

  Corvix arrived first.

  He did not knock. He walked in as though he owned the place — but his steps were just a little too quick.

  Inside, Ivaline had just finished bathing with Seraphine. Her damp silver hair clung to her shoulders as she stepped out, confused by the sudden presence.

  They just returned from a training for Seraphine improved flight magic.

  They both are out of town since dawn and just return straight home without notice of the atmosphere.

  “My daughter,” Corvix said smoothly, “do you travel often?”

  “…If it’s not guild-related, then no?”

  She tilted her head.

  Seraphine, standing slightly behind her, felt it too — something wrong. The air was heavy. Too careful.

  “I just happened to make a plan to travel to another country,” Corvix continued. “Would you like to accompany me? Your wife as well.”

  “Huh?”

  Too sudden.

  [Perception] triggered.

  The rhythm of his breathing. The faint tremor in his fingers. The way he kept rubbing his palms together.

  “Papa…” Ivaline narrowed her eyes. “Your heart is pounding faster than usual. Your breathing is uneven. You keep rubbing your hands. You do that when you’re lying.”

  Silence.

  Corvix froze.

  The smile on his face stiffened.

  That habit of his — fewer than five people had ever noticed it.

  He supposed he would have to add his daughter to that list.

  “As expected of my daughter,” he muttered. “Formidable.”

  “Then the truth, please.”

  He inhaled. Held it.

  Then exhaled slowly.

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  “If I asked you to leave this country right now… without explanation… would you come?”

  Ivaline said nothing.

  Seraphine’s fingers tightened slightly against her sleeve.

  Then—

  “Ivaline! My daughter!”

  Tomas came running down the road, breath ragged, face pale. He nearly stumbled before reaching the yard.

  Relief flooded his face when he saw her alive.

  Then his eyes met Corvix’s.

  “…You came.”

  “For our daughter.”

  “…Right.”

  They didn’t need to say more.

  They were here for the same reason.

  “Ivaline,” Tomas said, forcing cheer into his voice. “Daddy is thinking of moving to another country. Will you come with Daddy?”

  “You too?”

  Her gaze sharpened.

  “Suspicious…”

  Seraphine whispered it under her breath.

  And then the third presence arrived.

  “My daughter…”

  Suniel stepped through the gate.

  Three fathers stood in one yard.

  No words were exchanged — only a single nod between them.

  But this time, silence would not win.

  “I’ll go nowhere,” Ivaline said firmly, “unless one of you tells me the truth.”

  The three hesitated.

  Suniel closed his eyes.

  Then opened them.

  “The Demon King’s army has conquered the western republic. A royal decree has been issued. All notable adventurers are to be conscripted.”

  The words fell like iron.

  Corvix shot him a sharp look.

  Tomas’ shoulders trembled.

  “I’ve confirmed it with the guild,” Suniel continued calmly. “Four Bastion… and you… are on the priority list.”

  Seraphine’s breathing hitched.

  Ivaline turned slightly away — not to avoid them, but to think.

  Inside her mind—

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Chronicle snapped. ‘You are fourteen.’

  ‘I’m strong.’

  ‘You have fought individuals. War is different. In war, numbers crush talent.’

  ‘Goblins?’

  ‘Demons are not goblins. Individually stronger than humans. Organized. Ruthless. And likely superior in number.’

  Silence.

  ‘Father said Four Bastion and I are priority, correct?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Then if I flee, they will send someone weaker in my place.’

  Chronicle did not answer.

  ‘I’ll go.’

  ‘Wai—’

  “I’ll go.”

  Three men reacted at once.

  “…..! / …..!? / …..!!?!?”

  Ivaline stepped back.

  Then reached for Seraphine’s hand.

  Seraphine startled — but held on.

  “I have three reasons.”

  Suniel’s voice remained level. “Speak.”

  Behind him, magic quietly gathered in his palm — enough to knock her unconscious if necessary.

  “First,” Ivaline said softly, “I love you all.”

  All three froze.

  She had never said it aloud before.

  Not like this.

  “That’s why I cannot stay. If I fight there… I protect you here.”

  “No!” Tomas shouted. “You’re just a child!”

  “Yes,” she replied calmly. “A child strong enough to fell a wild orc alone.”

  Tomas fell silent.

  “You have no obligation!” Corvix barked.

  “The decree says otherwise.”

  “…Fck.”

  Even Suniel flinched slightly at that.

  “Second,” she continued, “I love this town.”

  She looked beyond them.

  At the edge of the yard, figures stood.

  Edwyn. Edric. Brannic. Harlund. Garrick. Hennel. Ayra. Mireya. Aldric. Bram. Nyssa. Niccole. Nasha. Bubble.

  They had all come quietly.

  “If I run,” she said, “I protect no one.”

  No one interrupted her now.

  “And third.”

  Her fingers tightened around Seraphine’s.

  “My wife is going.”

  Seraphine’s breath broke.

  “A good husband doesn’t abandon his wife, right?”

  Silence.

  Then Seraphine collapsed into her, sobbing.

  All three fathers followed.

  Tomas cried openly.

  Corvix allowed a single tear.

  Suniel did not cry — but his face twisted in a way no one had ever seen in his long life.

  The townspeople approached.

  Hands reached.

  Voices murmured gratitude and fear and pride all at once.

  It became a circle.

  A silent oath.

  An hour later, the guild master arrived — alongside a governor’s official and armed guards.

  The official looked miserable.

  “Miss Silver Ward. By decree of His Majesty, you are hereby summoned to participate in the coming war.”

  Even the governor did not like this.

  But loyalty bound tighter than affection.

  Ivaline gently removed every hand from her shoulders.

  She stepped forward.

  Fourteen years old.

  Silver hair catching the sunset.

  “I’m ready.”

  Chronicle said nothing.

  But within the quiet chamber of his existence, he made a vow.

  If it did not violate his ethics as a historian—

  He would stand at every edge of reason to keep her alive.

  To bring her home.

  And thus—

  At fourteen years old—

  Ivaline marched toward war against the Demon King’s army.

  Childhood ended that evening.