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chapter 10
It was her first time falling from a cliff.
In the middle of using magic tools to deal with the beasts, a horse, riled up beyond control, threw Sherylot off. Pushed back by the blades of those attacking her and Liam’s knights, she rolled down the cliffside.
Sherylot spat out strands of hair that whipped into her mouth from the mad gale.
“An assassination attempt, is it.”
Her heart pounded. It was her first time encountering this kind of assassination tactic—forcing her to fall to her death during battle.
“I didn’t think the Knight Commander would hate me this much.”
Had someone sent orders from the East to drug her horse? But this crude and reckless method wasn’t Odely’s style.
“So it was the Commander’s own doing.”
Clicking her tongue, Sherylot pulled from her chest a magic stone infused with telekinetic magic. She stretched her hand upward, and translucent wings spread like a parachute.
“Would’ve been easier if they’d gone with poison instead of this hassle.”
With genuine annoyance, Sherylot looked up at the cliff, where bits of rock were still tumbling down.
Back when she lived in the Freyuu Duchy, assassination attempts had been common. Some assassins came directly for her; other times she had nearly died after ingesting poison intended for her cousin, the Ducal heir.
So, contrary to Liam’s worries, this was nothing new. Irritating, yes, but not deadly.
Sighing, Sherylot slowed her descent, estimating the distance to the ground.
“About twelve rishe (meters) left, maybe.”
It would be dangerous to cut off the magic now. She planned to smash the stone once she was within three rishe. Just as she made that decision—
“…Huh?”
The stone’s color dulled.
Wait—this can’t fizzle out now!
With a final flicker, the magic cut off, and her body plummeted faster. Sherylot screamed:
“You damn thing! Why are you running out of power already?!”
Panicking, she tried to draw the pike strapped to her thigh, hoping to jam it into something, but the walls were just out of reach.
If she fell straight down, it’d be ten weeks’ worth of injuries at least. Even if her hands shredded, she needed to grab something.
Just as she cursed and let go of the dead stone—
A firm, warm presence wrapped around her. Sherylot instinctively hissed like a cat, startled.
“Who the hell are you?!”
She bit the arm that held her, then whipped out a dagger. Gripping it reverse, she tilted her head to smash the intruder’s nose—
“Careful.”
A calm voice brushed against her ear.
Eonian caught her wrist and flicked the dagger downward. Holding her tightly in his arms, he whispered:
“Can’t let you die here.”
“W-what…”
“Tuck your body.”
Sherylot bent her waist, obeying before she even realized it. She didn’t have time to be annoyed at herself—because the next instant, the white snowfield loomed.
Thud!
They hit the snow-covered meadow. For seconds, her vision blurred with branches, dried leaves, and shards of rock.
Her body bounced and rolled uncontrollably. After tumbling endlessly, she and Eonian finally stopped at the base of a withered old tree, separating like oil and water.
“Ugh…”
Her lip tasted of blood, coppery and bitter. Groaning, she rubbed her aching muscles and scanned around in haste.
“Where did he go?”
Eonian had divine power, so she wasn’t worried he’d be fatally hurt.
Still, he had saved her life. Even if she couldn’t thank him, she should at least check on him. Rising slowly, she looked around.
Didn’t they fall together? Then why wasn’t he anywhere?
Frowning, Sherylot raised her voice.
“Eonian.”
No answer.
“Eonian Bascaglia!”
Still silence.
Sherylot exhaled sharply. She hadn’t wanted to use this method, but—oh well.
“…You deceiver! Paperwork shirker! The stingy little man who got my funding cut! The loner of the world!”
Drawing a breath, she shouted louder:
“The creep who skulked behind our department building in the rain—”
“…Enough.”
At last, Eonian emerged from the snowbank, wearing a troubled smile.
Sherylot snorted, folding her arms.
“Hurt?”
“No.”
“Really? Surprising you’re fine after falling first.”
She eyed him as he rubbed his shin.
“So how’d you even notice me falling? And save me? Since when were you so athletic?”
“You ask too much. Nothing special. As soon as you fell off the horse, I ran straight to you.”
He shrugged, like it was trivial. Then added:
“Oh, and I have business nearby.”
“What business?”
“Finding out why the North has gotten abnormally cold.”
Eonian climbed atop a boulder with a grunt, then started walking toward the snow-covered valley, without hesitation.
Sherylot brushed snow from her forehead, scowling at his certainty.
“…When you asked me before, you said: who do you think is behind the northern tundra, right?”
“…Yes.”
“And you specifically mentioned Odely Freyuu. Why?”
His face was shadowed by the backlight, but she could hear a laugh between scorn and irony.
“Not sure if it’s really Freyuu’s intention. The scale’s too big.”
“You sounded more certain before.”
“I wasn’t completely sure. To know, I’d need to see the scale of the structures inside the mountains. Whether it’s an accident they couldn’t contain—or a man-made disaster meant to wipe out the North.”
…Structures?
Buildings in Lavre?
Well, people used to live there before Odely set up her puppet rulers.
But he said inside the mountains.
Mines? Tunnels?
Tilting her head, Sherylot followed him.
Time passed. The sun sank low, and the snow piled thicker, heavy as cotton.
Just when it grew exhausting to push through, Eonian stopped abruptly. Digging in the snow, he pulled out a rusted piece of iron.
“What’s this look like to you?”
“Hey, you trying to kill me with those long strides? Hard to keep— That’s a hinge.”
“Ooh, as expected from the craftswoman.”
Sherylot glared and examined the hinge. Rusted, with screw holes still visible. Too solid for a simple hut—there had to be a proper building nearby.
Then—
“Found it.”
Eonian’s eyes narrowed as divine power unraveled like threads.
He grabbed Sherylot’s arm and dashed toward a cliff wall.
Annoyed, she nearly shouted—until her eyes caught it: an oddity in the rock face, as though a secret passage was hidden. The broken stones had been patched artificially, seams carefully disguised.
“…Volcanic ash as filler for the magic circle? A rushed repair?”
She muttered, while Eonian pressed his palm against the wall. Holy power seeped from his fingertips.
Sacred arts, precise as magic. The reason he was called a genius shimmered like heat haze before her eyes—then the rock cracked and fell away.
A half-collapsed door was revealed.
Inside, the stones were shattered like broken teeth. Judging from the frost at the cracks, water had frozen and thawed repeatedly during milder spells.
Sweeping debris aside, Eonian pointed at the passage, from which cold, eerie air seeped.
“Let’s go. I think we’ve found it.”
“…Feels like something’s waiting inside.”
“It should be.”
Sherylot remembered the note Eonian had left her the day he proposed. The coordinates likely pointed here.
No matter what we see, I can’t afford to be shocked.
Swallowing dryly, she followed him in.
Ten minutes later.
“…What kind of insane things did they do here?”
Sherylot took back her earlier resolve.
