Meanwhile, Vierna continued hunting with Fenric. Earlier that morning, before they departed, she had told him to rest. To her surprise, Fenric looked fine, as if the ordeal from the day before hadn’t happened at all.

  Even so, she didn’t take any risks. She avoided hunting big game. It was clear Fenric was unsettled by it, and forcing him would have been cruel, even if it might have improved her standing in the village by increasing the food supply. Instead, she decided to set traps—simple snares for rabbits, squirrels, or anything else with meat.

  Once they had gone deep enough into the woods, she told him to rest beneath a giant oak. There was a hollow at the base of the trunk, far enough from the village that no one would stumble upon them by chance.

  Whether he was faking it or not, she admired Fenric’s resilience. If she had endured pain like his, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to hide it. And that would have given Loran’del a valid reason to expel her from the village—causing her mission to fail.

  She thought of finding something to reward Moony for her hard work later, yet she had no idea what would even count as a gift for a spirit. Moony sometimes asked her to switch places, but Vierna still didn’t fully understand how that worked.

  The two of them went inside. The hollow oak swallowed them in dim amber light, its walls slick with age and smelling of damp moss and resin. The air was cool, still—like the inside of a living heart that had long forgotten to beat.

  Fenric lay down inside, sinking onto the cold earth as if it were the softest bed. Vierna couldn’t tell whether he was asleep or not, but she chose to let him be. He had endured so much, and Vierna still couldn’t understand his selflessness—defending her even while revealing his own secret. She wondered if she could ever do the same. Could she truly help a stranger without any motive of her own?

  Yes, she held Fenric’s secret too, but he hadn’t been in danger when he helped her. He could have stayed silent, let Loran’del confirm his suspicion, and have her and Lina expelled from the village. Even if she revealed Fenric’s truth afterward, the villagers would have dismissed it as another lie.

  Didn’t he think of that? Judging by his calmness and wit, he wasn’t a fool.

  So why help her? Was it really just kindness?

  The question lingered like a stain she couldn’t wash away. She couldn’t deny the debt she owed him. Because of Fenric, she was still here, still able to continue her mission.

  And yet that same kindness could destroy him. If she succeeded in finding Yvlaine’s hideout, the Arkmarschall would surely learn that Rolbart had, in a way, failed to report rebel activity. That alone would be enough to condemn the entire village, and every innocent beastkin within it would bear the punishment.

  Her chest tightened at the thought. Then there was her own mistake—the agent she had killed. What would happen when the mission ended? Was the mission even still valid?

  And what about Lina? She had sworn to bear her sins alongside her, but could she really drag her beloved into a disaster of her own making? Even if Lina claimed she would die with her, Vierna couldn’t allow it. The thought of someone as pure as Lina dying for her sake tore her apart.

  Maybe if she confessed everything to Leopold, if she told him Lina had no part in it, he might spare her. But that would betray Lina’s wish—to stay together, no matter the cost. To honor her wish was to kill her; to defy it was to let her live alone.

  So many questions, and no answers. Vierna wished the world weren’t so complicated, that she could simply be an innocent little girl again, with her only worry being the basic magic theory test waiting for her the next day. But it seemed that kind of life was never meant for her.

  The thoughts spun in her mind, but she forced herself to stay composed. As long as Leopold’s men hadn’t come for her, the mission continued, and she would see it through.

  Perhaps she could still negotiate leniency for Rolbart. It was a futile hope, but as the saying went, you miss every shot you don’t take. Vierna would try anyway. Who knew? Maybe they would only be sent for reeducation—minds broken and reforged until no thought of rebellion remained. Hollow, perhaps, but alive.

  And wasn’t that what mattered most?

  She didn’t have the answers now, and perhaps she never would. But she was already a dead woman walking, her fate sealed the moment she killed Leopold’s agent. The future could wait. For now, all that mattered was finishing the mission — the rest would be for another Vierna to carry.

  Vierna closed her eyes. It had been a while since her last conversation with Moony. She wondered if there had been any change in her.

  Hey, Moony, you there?

  ‘Yeah… what’s up?’

  Are you feeling better now?

  ‘Not quite, Vierna. It feels like I’m tired all the time. Do you need something?’

  Maybe I’ll go around and shoot some birds. I don’t like being idle like this. Can you still use runes?

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ‘I think I can manage some, but please don’t use Eidrecht for a while. Yesterday’s fight really beat the hell out of me.’

  Thanks, Moony. When Fenric wakes up, I’ll ask if he knows any cure for our condition.

  ‘Go easy on the runes, okay? I’m still sore as hell here.’

  And so, Vierna picked up Fenric’s musket and stepped outside. She also took the powder horn and bullet bag—Fenric hadn’t stored them in his storage rune because of his condition.

  I wonder if Lina’s having fun right now? she thought. Hehe… thinking of her brewing medicine like a witch from a fairy tale is kind of funny.

  And yet, far from Vierna’s thoughts, Lina was probably having the hardest time of her life.

  Aila’s journal was absurdly detailed—an intimidating tome disguised as a notebook. Every page was filled to the brim with neat, looping handwriting so small and compact it almost looked printed. The structure itself was neat and orderly—each entry framed by clean borders and tidy margins—but the content was overwhelming.

  She described everything: the exact texture of each leaf, the color of the stem under different light, how the scent changed when crushed or boiled, even the way the smoke curled when burned. Some entries included tiny sketches drawn with meticulous precision, notes about how the air pressure or moonlight might alter potency, and the subtle differences between northern and southern soil varieties.

  It would’ve been a scholar’s dream—if only it weren’t organized like a nightmare.

  Nothing was alphabetical. The potions were listed in the order Aila happened to invent or refine them, and each name was one of her personal creations: Gentle Dawn Tonic, Wind-Belly Remedy, Slumberwine of the Second Bloom. Charming names, yes—but useless for anyone who wasn’t Aila herself.

  So Lina had no choice but to read through it page by page, her eyes scanning every densely packed line, hoping she’d eventually stumble upon the exact potion she needed before her patience—and eyesight—gave out.

  Sometimes her mind wandered to her own novel, The Adventure of Malkurus the Camel Musket. As she read Aila’s meticulous notes, plot ideas crept in. She really should continue it—it had been on hiatus for months during training, and any reader would be tired of waiting. Then again, her only reader was Vierna, and Lina could make her keep reading it.

  She shook her head each time she drifted. The cure for Vierna’s condition was here, and the remedy should include Fengworth extract.

  So she kept reading. After a while she learned to skim past the over-description and jump straight to the ingredients. From time to time she glanced toward Loran’del’s house. Aila had been inside for a while. Whatever they were discussing seemed important.

  A thought tugged at her: she should be more cautious around Aila. She clearly sided with Loran’del. He was probably telling her that Lina and Vierna were suspicious—maybe even asking Aila to watch Lina. Which meant that even if Lina found the potion in the journal, she would need to slip away or have a solid reason to leave to gather the ingredients.

  After a while, she finally finished reading Aila’s journal, yet the only mention of Fengworth extract was in a potion called A Sleeper’s Embrace.

  It stated that the potion was meant for sleepless nights caused by severe mental damage from direct confrontation with a Black Umbral, a daemon Lina had once seen during the Battle of Einhartturm. It noted that the connection between spirit and body weakened as the mind deteriorated under the weight of insomnia, which in turn caused intense pain whenever mana was used. The potion also mentioned that this affliction would result in limited mana capacity along with pain during using mana—the bane of all wizardkind.

  The potion made no mention of Hairon Root. If anything, Hairon Root appeared as an ingredient in another potion meant to soothe the mind.

  Lina reread the passage carefully. Vierna had slept normally the night before. If anything, she slept more peacefully, as if nothing had happened. Lina had never seen anyone sleep as soundly as her—snoring softly and hugging Lina’s arm until it went numb.

  But the part describing intense pain during magic use and restricted mana flow matched her condition perfectly. On top of that, Loran’del had mentioned this potion’s main ingredient earlier.

  Still, Lina remained cautious. Giving someone a potion that only half-explained their symptoms was a risk she didn’t want to take. Yet there was nothing else in the journal that came even remotely close to describing Vierna’s condition. So, in the end, she chose to follow it.

  The ingredients for the potion were mostly common herbs Lina already knew—except for the Fengworth flower, which only grew near the border between Rolbart Forest and Schattwald Forest. With that, she at least had a rough idea of what to do. Only when to do it remained uncertain.

  “Ahhh, finally he was done.”

  The voice surprised Lina who’ve just done with her long reading. She raised her head and Aila was there with her usual cheery face, her sheeplike ear twitch with excitement.

  “What are you up to, Aline?” she asked with a smile.

  “Nothing much. Just reading your journal, trying to learn about local herbs and potions.”

  “Hehe, look at you—already so dedicated to your job. Any potion catch your interest?”

  “Not particularly. I’m familiar with most of the herbs you use, though there are a few local ones I don’t recognize—Ironbloom, Shadevine, Whisperleaf, and especially the Fengworth flower. I am curious though, this potion.” Lina open up the page containing Sleeper’s Embrace. She hoped that it wasn’t suspicious for AIla given how their conversation’s been going. “This potion, sleepless night which means insomnia right? So you got two variants of a cure for insomnia cure here?”

  “Ah no… this one was a bit specific. For insomnia we usualy use Touch of Sandman but when the insomnia cause mana usage problem the we use Sleeper’s Embrace. It only happened once though.”

  “Hmm, does that mean a Black Umbral ever been here?”

  “Yes.” Aila lose her cheeriness. “Back then there was a boy who come from out of the forest, he accidentally baited a Black Umbral here, it was a tough fight even with Yvlaine being here.”

  “I see… must’ve been a really dangerous situation.” Lina nodded. “What happened to the boy?”

  “Oh he was gone, he said he can’t stay here for long hehe.”

  Lina caught the slight shift of Aila’s expression as she told her about a boy it was as if she was hiding something. She rubbed her chin, if only the boy was still around maybe she could ask him more about it and yet the information was enough. Luckly for Lina, there are other herbs that grow on the border of Schattwald forest, so she could use it as pretext later on. “Okay what’s next on the agenda?”

  “Well, Loran’del insist me to check the medicinal herb that Vierna brought yesterday, so we need to delay the house call. Well I cant help but agree with him, our apothecary was really thin.”

  “Okay they, should we head to the smoking room?” Lina asked.

  “Yes! Let’s go”