Upon seeing Lora Bell again—the girl she had once believed to have been killed by traffickers—Aurora found herself utterly speechless, unable to express the overwhelming emotions flooding her heart.
Dragging her long hair behind her, Aurora staggered toward Lora Bell, her steps unsteady.
The magic she had just used had drained nearly all of her energy; she could collapse at any moment.
But even so, she yearned to be reunited—truly reunited—with Lora Bell.
Summoning the last of her strength, Aurora spoke softly, “Lora Bell… do you still remember me?”
Her tired face was full of hopeful anticipation.
She believed, no, she knew, that Lora Bell would surely recognize her, then leap into her arms like she used to and hold her tightly.
But things didn’t go the way she hoped.
“If you come any closer, you’ll end up just like that monster.”
That cold, distant voice pierced through her like ice.
Aurora’s pupils shrank.
She instinctively took a step back, as if unable to believe what Lora Bell had just said.
“State your name and purpose,” Lora Bell commanded, lifting her longsword to point it at Aurora.
“And explain that strange magic you used just now.”
Lora Bell had arrived earlier than the others after receiving the call for reinforcements.
From a distance, she had seen the enormous golden magic circle hanging in the sky—shaped like a clock and pulsing with terrifying magical energy.
It was unlike anything she had ever seen or heard of.
But Aurora didn’t hear a word of her questioning.
She was still stuck on that first sentence:
“If you come any closer, you’ll end up like that monster.”
Did she not recognize her?
Was she really Lora Bell?
They’d been separated for nearly two hundred years.
Normally, a human wouldn’t live that long.
Unless… she had reincarnated?
Or used some forbidden magic to gain eternal life?
She looked at the woman before her, still glowing faintly with holy light, and couldn’t imagine her being the kind of person to use taboo magic.
But even so… she had to confirm it.
“I’m Aurora, Lora Bell. Don’t you remember me?”
“…Aurora…”
Lora Bell repeated the name, over and over, like it stirred something deep within her. Something familiar.
But no clear memory surfaced.
Though the woman before her knew her name, as one of the three remaining Holy Knights of the kingdom, it wasn’t unusual for her name to be known—no, it was practically a household name.
“…Aurora…”
She stared at Aurora’s face, unable to look away.
Why did she feel this way?
Why did it feel so familiar, so sad, so painful… why did she have this overwhelming urge to run up and hug her?
Lora Bell clenched her jaw at the thought and suddenly shook her head violently.
Raising her sword again, she shouted at Aurora,
“Did you cast some kind of curse on me?!”
That strange, persistent urge to embrace her just wouldn’t go away.
And yet… Lora Bell couldn’t remember anything about this so-called fairy.
“Curse? Why would I curse you?” Aurora said with a pained expression.
“I’m Aurora, don’t you really remember me, Lora Bell?”
Aurora had seen the flicker of emotion in her eyes.
That hesitation, that confusion—it confirmed it.
This was Lora Bell.
But why didn’t she remember her?
Lora Bell, however, was convinced she knew no such person.
In her mind, this had to be some curse the fairy had cast without her noticing.
That must be the source of these strange feelings.
And for any curse—killing the caster was the most effective way to break the spell.
“I hereby pass judgment in the name of the Holy Knights. For the crime of conspiring with cultists to harm the people, you shall be executed on the spot!”
“Prepare to die.”
Lora Bell raised her gleaming sword high—yet it didn’t fall.
Aurora made no move to dodge.
If she were to die by Lora Bell’s hand, so be it.
She would accept it.
Perhaps it could even be considered penance for all the sins she’d carried.
The air turned heavy. Awkward. Silent.
Aurora stood motionless before Lora Bell, awaiting the strike.
But Lora Bell, hand still raised, did not bring her sword down.
“Wait!!”
A shout rang out from behind them.
Aurora instantly recognized the voice—it was Avila.
“My legs are numb from running!”
Avila sprinted up and slid to a stop between them, gasping for breath, her cheeks flushed and covered in glistening sweat. She must have rushed here at full speed.
“L-Lady Holy Knight! You’ve definitely made a m-mistake…”
Avila’s voice trembled.
She was terrified.
Standing this close to one of the legendary Holy Knights, she didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly.
Lora Bell narrowed her eyes.
“How exactly did I make a mistake?”
“How could a fairy with this kind of strange power show up in the middle of the night, looking like that?” She gestured sharply.
“She must be conspiring with the cultists. There’s no other explanation.”
Lora Bell’s tone was laced with firm conviction—decisive action had always been her style.
But today, something felt different.
Even now, she couldn’t understand why she had hesitated earlier, why that single strike had refused to fall.
That wasn’t like her at all.
“Holy Knight, she’s the one who fought the cultists!” Avila said urgently.
Lora Bell shot her a doubtful look. “Didn’t you report a human woman?”
She turned her eyes back to Aurora.
“Does she look human to you?”
Humans didn’t have such long, luminous hair.
Humans didn’t have a face so ethereal and pure it seemed divine.
Humans didn’t have long, pointed ears—nor did they wield such strange, unseen magic.
Anyone who had cracked open a book could tell she was unmistakably a fairy.
“Well… yes, but…”
Avila glanced behind her at Aurora, now barely able to stand.
And despite the urgency of the moment, her thoughts slipped: Wow, she’s really gorgeous…
“Ahem, I mean, I didn’t know she was a fairy when we first met!” Avila hurried to explain.
“She must’ve been hiding it!”
“Y-yeah! That’s it!”
Lora Bell still looked unconvinced. “Is that so?”
“It’s true! Really true!”
“Aurora’s a good per—uh, fairy. I found her in the forest.
She’s definitely not suspicious!”
“And she volunteered to face the cultists alone so no one else would get hurt!”
Found her in the forest, huh…
That… actually made her sound more suspicious.
“…Enough.”
Lora Bell sheathed her sword.
“You’re both coming with me for questioning.”
“Lora Bell…”
A weak voice interrupted her.
Both she and Avila turned—only to find Aurora’s body glowing with strange light.
She reached out toward Lora Bell, her voice filled with pain and pleading.
“It hurts… please, help me…”
The moment she spoke those words, she collapsed to the ground.
The glow around her intensified, swelling until it exploded in a flash of blinding light.
And then—she was gone.
Only her clothes remained where she had fallen.
“Miss Aurora?!” Avila cried out, stunned.
For a moment, she truly thought Aurora had abandoned her.
Wouldn’t that make me look like the cultist now?!
“…What just happened?” Lora Bell murmured, eyes narrowed.
Both of them looked toward the bundle of clothes.
Lying atop the fabric was a single object—quiet, delicate, and out of place:
A silver pocket watch.