The warrior strode toward me, looking directly into my eyes before speaking.
“Your Grace, I’m relieved to see you unharmed.”
His voice was low and composed, but there was a faint trace of relief in it. His piercing blue eyes scanned me carefully before fixing on the collar around my neck.
His gaze lingered on the red rose emblem embroidered on the pristine white leather, and his brow furrowed slightly.
“This emblem… Surely, it couldn’t be Flora, the witch?”
As her familiar name escaped his lips, the air seemed to grow cold.
“Do you know her?”
I asked in a soft, almost whispering tone.
The warrior slowly nodded and replied, his voice steady.
“Several months ago, there were reports of her sudden disappearance. Recently, however, rumors have been circulating that she has reappeared—far more ruthless than before.”
His expression betrayed an effort to suppress a deep-seated disgust.
His hand began to move deliberately toward the hilt of the holy sword at his waist.
“This distasteful trinket should be destroyed at once…”
Just as he reached for the sword, I swiftly grabbed his arm, stopping him.
His sharp eyes narrowed slightly, surprised by my sudden intervention.
“Your Grace…?”
Without saying a word, I shook my head.
I knew that no one could truly understand my relationship with Flora, least of all the warrior.
I could not even hope for him to try. Speaking in a calm voice, I lied.
“It’s a magical item Flora created to suppress the side effects of my heart’s curse.”
As I spoke, the presence of the collar around my neck grew vividly clear.
The more I explained, the more his expression twisted with subtle, conflicted emotions.
“To call something like this ‘necessary’… What a twisted taste,”
he muttered, a faint sneer curling his lips.
Anger boiled within me, and for a moment, I considered grabbing him by the collar.
But instead, I tightened my grip on my staff, forcing my emotions down.
“Where is this place? Do you have any more information about her?”
I asked, meeting his gaze directly.
The warrior seemed to ponder for a moment before replying calmly.
“This is near the Erin Forest, in the northeastern part of the kingdom. To have come this far, you’ve ventured quite deep into the region.”
His eyes briefly shifted to the tent’s entrance before returning to me.
“Flora Silverwood… Her precise whereabouts remain unknown. She moves in secrecy. However, there have been recent reports of her traces in the borderlands. It seems she may be involved with the demon clans.”
The warrior’s voice softened as he continued speaking.
“Your Grace, please don’t worry. I will ensure your safe return to the duke’s residence in the capital. Staying alone in such a remote place is far too dangerous.”
For a moment, I considered whether I could make use of him.
However, the only future I could envision if he encountered Flora was him drawing his sword and cutting her down.
Slowly, I shook my head and spoke firmly.
“Prepare for the fight against the Demon King. That is the task you must focus on right now.”
His expression wavered between surprise and concern.
“But… Your Grace…”
He trailed off, his gaze filled with an unspoken plea to persuade me otherwise.
Yet, to me, he was nothing more than an obstacle at this moment.
Meeting his unwavering blue eyes, I shook my head again.
“It’s fine. I don’t need your help.”
My voice was calm but resolute, leaving no room for argument.
My goal of finding Flora had not changed.
“…Understood. I will respect your decision, Your Grace.”
The warrior’s voice carried a mix of disappointment and bitterness.
He nodded silently, seeming to give up any further attempts at convincing me.
The weight of silence fell over the tent. Only the occasional crackle of the firewood and the distant clashing of blades, accompanied by the spirited shouts of soldiers training outside, broke the stillness.
“It’s getting late; I’ll take my leave now,”
he said before exiting.
Once he left, the tent was engulfed in silence again.
The untouched cup of cold tea remained on the table, a testament to the conversation that had just passed.
I sat quietly, not touching it, as time stretched on.
Outside, the sound of snapping branches and rustling leaves was the only indication that time was still moving forward.
By the next morning, the camp was as busy as ever.
At some point during the night, the warrior had disappeared.
Perhaps he had left at dawn.
I sat on the makeshift cot, staring blankly at the ceiling of the tent.
“Your Grace.”
A heavy, low voice called from the entrance.
Turning my head, I saw the knight who had guided me to the camp the previous day.
Clad in thick armor that protected his shoulders and chest, and with a sharp longsword at his waist, he stood resolutely.
“The carriage is ready.”
It seemed everything was in place.
The plan was to head to the city and use the teleportation circle to reach the capital.
However, I had no intention of going to the capital.
Instead, the teleportation circle would take me to the borderlands, where traces of Flora had been discovered.
Stepping outside the tent, I was greeted by a familiar cacophony.
The clatter of galloping hooves, the murmur of soldiers, the metallic clang of armor, and the sound of weapons being inspected filled the air.
Though it was the same camp as the day before, the atmosphere was busier, with a palpable tension hanging over everything.
Somewhere, a low drumbeat echoed faintly, hinting at the urgency of the battlefield.
In the center of the clearing stood a sturdy wooden carriage.
Its thick planks bore the marks of long use, but it looked reliable overall.
Two muscular brown horses, outfitted with tough leather harnesses, were hitched to the front.
On the driver’s seat sat a grim-faced coachman, wearing a worn leather hat pulled low over his brow.
Four knights stood at attention around the carriage.
Their armor bore scratches and dents, evidence of countless battles fought.
One of the knights quietly opened the carriage door for me, and without hesitation, I stepped inside.
The interior was more spacious than I had expected, but the smell of aged wood and old dust was sharp and pervasive.
Long benches were arranged on either side, and faint cracks could be seen on the wooden floor.
Taking a deep breath, I gazed out the window at the scenery.
Soon, the carriage jolted into motion, rattling along the narrow road.
At first, the uneven terrain made the ride rough, the carriage swaying violently with every bump.
But as we entered the forest path, the journey became smoother.
The landscape outside the window was a stark contrast to the barren view from the camp.
Dense forests and expansive plains stretched out in turn, with sunlight breaking through the swaying leaves in scattered patches.
“Damn it, why is this road so rough?” grumbled the knight leading the way.
His voice was heavy with fatigue and irritation.
His rough hand idly stroked the hilt of his sword, though his wary eyes never stopped scanning the surroundings.
“Just bear with it. The city’s still a long way off,” another knight replied indifferently, walking beside him.
His long strides were casual, his arms crossed leisurely as he moved.
Twin daggers hung at his waist, and he tapped their sheaths idly with his fingers as though out of boredom.
“In a place like this, bandits could show up at any moment. Stay vigilant,” a third knight said in a cautious tone.
Unlike the others, he wore his armor meticulously and even kept his helmet on, his head swiveling as he watched the surroundings.
Though his face was hidden, the slender fingers visible through the gaps in his armor revealed his build.
Holding a lance tightly, he carefully inspected it while maintaining a keen watch.
“Ha! As if a bunch of bandits could do anything against us,” scoffed the first knight, letting out a derisive snort.
“Instead of escorting a noble lady through this backwater, we’d be better off drinking at a village tavern by now,” he added, his tone dripping with open discontent.
“What’s so important about this, anyway? Damn it, dragging some bastard along shouldn’t be this complicated.”
His words made my fingers tighten involuntarily.
In the past, I would have let it slide without much thought, but for some reason, his words struck a nerve this time.
Then, the fourth knight—the one who had saved me from the orcs—turned his head sharply and glared at the first knight.
His eyes shone with a piercing sharpness.
“Watch your tongue. You’re speaking in the presence of royalty.”
His voice was low, cold, and cutting.
The first knight let out a scoff, smirking mockingly.
“Royalty? What’s so special about them? Just parasites living off the luck of being born to the right father.”
He didn’t stop there.
“I heard the rumors. A one-eyed freak, isn’t that what they’re called? A grotesque face with a missing eye! Ha!”
My hand trembled as I gripped my staff.
Flora’s words about me being beautiful echoed in my mind, unbidden.
Fury boiled within me, rising like a storm, and I felt an almost uncontrollable urge to spit out a retort.
At that moment, a sudden clash of steel rang out, followed by a piercing scream that tore through the air.
I turned to see what had happened.
One of the knights had already fallen.
His armor was shredded, and blood poured out from deep gashes across his body.
The cleanly severed edges of his wounds still gushed warm blood, pooling beneath him.
Torn entrails spilled onto the muddy ground, and his broken sword lay in two useless pieces beside him.
Perhaps because it was the knight who had insulted me moments ago, I didn’t feel disgust or pity.
Instead, a strange sense of satisfaction bubbled up within me.
I turned toward the direction of the sound and saw the remaining three knights engaged in fierce combat.
Their weapons clashed violently with something, the sharp clang of steel mingling with feral roars, turning the air into a cacophony of chaos.
Then, a low, resonant voice echoed through the chaos, cutting through the noise like a blade.
“The Demon King commands you to bring the woman who dared defy him. Hand over the half-elf with the Dragon Heart, and I will spare your lives.”
Following the voice, I turned my gaze and saw a demon clad in black armor.
Two massive horns jutted from its head, and its dark, shadowy skin peeked out from the gaps in the armor.
In its hands, a massive greatsword gleamed ominously.
“Do you think knights would abandon their charge to grovel for their lives?”
With a thunderous shout, the knight who had saved me from the orcs charged at the demon, his sword flashing like lightning.
His blade collided with the demon’s greatsword, sending a resounding crash through the air.
The demon’s blood-red eyes gleamed with interest.
“Impressive. I am Malkadas, a commander of the Demon King’s army. And who are you?”
The demon’s voice was low, almost mocking, as it swung its greatsword effortlessly.
The knight’s hand trembled as he gripped his sword tightly, shouting with fiery determination.
“I am Ludwig von Erdenfeld, knight of Erdenfeld! Coachman! What are you doing?! Take the Duke and leave this place at once! I’ll hold him off!”
At Ludwig’s command, the coachman, pale with terror, clutched the reins.
With a sharp crack of the whip, the startled horses whinnied and reared before breaking into a frantic gallop.
The carriage lurched violently, the sound of pounding hooves echoing as it raced forward.
Inside, I felt every bump and sway as the vehicle hurried away.
Through the window, I caught a final glimpse of Ludwig.
He was fighting desperately, swinging his sword with all his strength as he faced the demon’s onslaught.
The demon pressed down on him with effortless strikes, its greatsword battering against Ludwig’s blade.
But Ludwig didn’t retreat, his resolve unwavering.
The carriage sped away, the thunderous noise of its wheels drowning out everything else.
Before long, the demon’s presence faded, leaving only the harsh breathing of the horses and the sharp cracks of the coachman’s whip.
The clash of blades and Ludwig’s shouts echoed in my mind long after they had vanished from earshot.
After what felt like an eternity of running, the scenery outside the window began to change.
Grand buildings loomed in the distance, and the sound of bustling crowds grew louder.
At last, the carriage came to a halt before a towering city gate, its imposing iron doors standing firm against the outside world.
People bustled about in front of the walls, and guards stood at attention, spears in hand, their gazes sharp and alert.