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Chapter : 26
Zenaida calmly accepted Ellen’s escort and climbed onto the wyvern.
He was grinning ear to ear, as if something delighted him immensely.
“You made the right choice.”
In contrast, Zenaida muttered with a cold expression.
“…We are heading east, right?”
“Yeah. It’s a long way, so try to get some sleep. I’ll block the wind.”
When the wyvern rose into the air, air far colder than anything on the ground grazed Zenaida’s cheek.
Ellen cast a wind barrier around her.
She accepted it without a word, and he took a seat just outside to keep watch.
“You’re okay like that?”
“I’m fine.”
For a long stretch, neither spoke.
The wyvern cut swiftly through the sky.
After some time had passed, the shield around Zenaida dissolved on its own.
The air outside was still cold enough to freeze her whole body.
Ellen hurried to take off his coat for her, but she spoke first.
“I’m fine. It was suffocating.”
“Oh. Right.”
When Zenaida complied so meekly, Ellen immediately shifted and catered to her as though nothing had happened.
She stared openly at him for a moment, then turned away.
Her gaze, fixed ahead, slowly dropped downward.
Far below stretched a plain filled with ancient trees.
It was too far to see clearly, but the dead trunks twisted and tangled together.
No leaves, no sprouts—only lifeless wood.
“…….”
Ellen watched her for a moment before speaking carefully.
“Do you… know about the Kingdom of Vine?”
Vine had once been a land of spirits and spirit priests.
But it had fallen to the Ardent Empire and was now fading into history.
Zenaida answered matter-of-factly.
“Yeah. My mother was a prophet there.”
At that, Ellen’s eyes glittered with curiosity.
A prophet.
Once, prophets were treasured second only to the royal family in the Kingdom of Vine.
Excited, Ellen pressed further.
“Then can you predict the future too?”
“No. I can’t.”
“You inherited a prophet’s blood but can’t prophesy?”
Prophetic sight was hereditary—
and prophets were obligated to bear heirs because of it.
“Yup. Can’t. Why? Disappointed? Changed your mind because I’m useless?”
The jab cooled his excitement, and he replied evenly.
“No. I’m not taking you as a prophet, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Then what exactly do you want me for?”
She had always wondered.
No one would obsess over her this insanely just because she was a spirit priest.
There had to be another motive—but she could never guess what.
“Well, I suppose you should know now.”
Ellen took a breath, then spoke.
“There’s a prophecy.”
“…….”
“Once Vine falls, a savior wielding both the power of spirits and the power of gods will rise to deliver us.”
He lifted his eyebrows.
“I knew you could use both powers, but I couldn’t approach you carelessly. You’re loyal enough to the Pope and the Emperor to pretend to die on command. No way someone loyal to the Ardent scum would save us. But then… Kaiden showed up.”
He drew closer.
“It felt like a chance. That guy was cast out by the imperial family, and the Holy Nation curses his name. Everyone points fingers.”
Another step closer.
“So why not take him too? Yeah, he’s rude, but talented. The problem was he refused to switch sides.”
“…….”
“I was surprised. He despises the emperor, yet follows orders. But.”
Madness flickered in his eyes.
“You seem to like him.”
“…….”
“I can’t take the one I originally wanted if you’re attached to him.”
“So you tried to kill me?”
“Mm-hm.”
Zenaida stared quietly into his face.
Then she spoke.
“I thought about it a lot. Like you said—imperials hate spirit priests.”
The reason Ardent citizens despised spirits and spirit priests was simple:
Because everyone said so.
Because the Pope said so.
Not from experience—just parroting what others said.
“But did you know something?”
Her eyes flashed with murderous heat.
“To me, you’re no different.”
Without finishing the breath between words, Zenaida stabbed Ellen with her spare dagger.
The blade sank into his unguarded left ribs.
“…What?”
“Do you know what Vine did to my mother?”
She grabbed the weakening Ellen by the collar.
They stood atop a wyvern’s back—
one misstep meant death or, with luck, crippling injury.
“They imprisoned her for making a ‘useless prophecy.’ And they tried to kill me.”
Behind her, the wind roiled ominously.
“And you still want to take me?”
With that, she released his collar.
Ellen dropped like a stone.
The wyvern bucked violently as its rider fell from safety.
Even so, he showed little panic.
This was the Witch’s Forest.
Here, mages, aura knights, and spirit priests alike lost access to their powers—
curses and shields included.
No one knew why, or how to break it.
So she wants to drop me and run.
In this place, brute force was all that mattered.
The trained wyvern would rescue Ellen no matter what,
and Zenaida—unable to use spirit power or divine force—would have to cling to the beast or die.
She could not escape Ellen’s reach unless she chose death.
I’ll take you—no matter what.
Whether she was the prophesied savior no longer mattered.
As long as she was the prophet’s daughter, he would never let her go.
Never.
Soon, the wyvern swooped down and caught Ellen before he hit the ground.
Pressing a hand to his throbbing wound, he looked for Zenaida.
“What? Where is she?”
But contrary to his expectations, she was no longer on the wyvern.
…Can I survive?
She couldn’t say.
The air rushing past made the world blur behind her.
Zenaida had never intended to follow Ellen.
She only pretended to, to ensure he fought off the beasts.
According to her memories before regression, the Witch’s Forest to the east was a dead zone—
even Ellen couldn’t use his powers there.
She saw the monsters retreat from the grand ducal fortress because of it.
I wanted to check the western region too…
But she couldn’t.
Kaiden’s there.
All she could do was hope they had also retreated.
Her fingers were numb, unable even to clasp her own hands.
So she made another wish.
To be lucky.
To get caught on something and not die.
She had already been blessed with the miracle of rebirth—
but she wanted to live longer still.
To stay by Kaiden’s side, even a little longer.
Yes, I…
CRACK.
Maybe the wish worked.
Instead of slamming into the ground, she bounced through tree branches,
and the northern snows softened the landing.
Still, even a small impact felt catastrophic to her battered body.
“Ugh…”
Pain flared from her left shoulder; when she tried to curl up, pain lanced through every muscle.
Staring up at the sky, Zenaida murmured:
“I lived.”
What a merciful god.
Twice now she had been given another chance.
She forced her body upright—
even that felt miraculous.
A third chance.
Shamelessly joyful.
Using her sword as a cane, she began to walk.
The forest was full of dead trees—
even if Ellen searched, she would be hard to find.
He can’t use spirit arts either. He’ll give up.
The Witch’s Forest demanded numbers to search—
one man alone couldn’t succeed.
And after such a fall, he might assume she was dead.
He could take revenge later, but she had bought time to defend the fortress.
If the walls fall, it’s over.
Spirit power was great, but not limitless.
Lorala will do as I asked.
She had seen it in her tearful face—
how deeply she cared.
And Zenaida knew Lorala well.
Before the regression, Lorala was the person she spoke to most after Kaiden.
A woman who keeps every word she says.
Then the worst could be avoided.
Only now did Zenaida consider her own survival.
First, shelter from the wind.
The wind was rising.
A blizzard was coming.
She scanned the area desperately.
And as if by miracle, she saw a cave.
