A man who had come from the Empire, having received an order from the Emperor, glanced warily at the woman standing before him.
Of course, considering the woman’s identity, his reaction was quite natural.
She was the woman known as Beryl’s nightmare, whether by intent or not, and she was an illusionist who had spread the name “Black Witch” across the entire southern continent.
In her presence, the five senses held no meaning, and before her, an individual’s will and self were nothing more than playthings.
The man from the Empire kept his distance from the woman while observing what she was doing.
The woman was stroking the head of a specter.
By infusing it with mana, she was planting the illusion that it was already dead and awaited rebirth.
It was an incredibly intricate illusion.
The subject of this illusion, Boren, was struggling within its intricacies.
All his other senses had died, leaving him aware only of his death. His memories and sense of self were blurred, making any escape from his demise impossible.
Unless Lewena lifted the spell or the infused mana neutralized, there was little hope for Boren to regain his self.
To be able to cloud someone’s consciousness to such an extent—it was only natural that he would feel fear.
“Enough.”
The man from the Empire said this as he watched the woman finish and asked with a grim expression.
“How long will it last?”
“I don’t know. It might last forever.”
Her smile made it unclear whether she was joking or serious.
So the man simply thought he shouldn’t have asked and muttered, “I see,” before hoisting Boren onto his shoulder and placing him on a horse.
Without even a word of farewell, the man rode away, and Lewena watched him go without showing any irritation at his rudeness.
Given that she had already forsaken humanity, it wasn’t worth getting angry over personal discomfort.
All that remained was an uncomfortable feeling in the observer watching from afar.
And that observer shook their head despite the unease.
“But…this is the end for Boren.”
Aslan, who had been watching what Lewena was doing, truly believed this.
Even though Tiyalmisof might still be alive and Harrod had to die twice,
perhaps they had excluded one of the most challenging opponents in the long term.
Boren had that kind of potential.
Only, the man himself hadn’t managed to draw it out yet.
Now, handing such a Boren over to the Empire allowed Aslan to consider it a gain.
Whether they would place him in a prison like those for deities of defeat or confine him elsewhere was uncertain,
but with Lewena’s illusions, things should be fine.
Aslan, who had been lost in thought for some time, turned his head when something small poked his back.
Or rather, should it be called “them”?
What had poked Aslan’s back from a higher position was Phey, riding atop a supernatural tiger.
“Hi, Aslan.”
The elven girl greeted him naturally.
Aslan smiled at Phey.
“Already getting along so well?”
Phey grinned at that and stroked the fur of the supernatural tiger with her tiny hand.
The tiger stood completely still as the small hand swept over it.
“Yeah, Wangbokshili and Phey are friends.”
“Wangbokshili?”
For a creature of divine origin, 5 meters long and left behind by a deity, the name seemed excessively cute, causing Aslan to involuntarily smile.
Not sure how Phey interpreted Aslan’s smile, she placed her hands on her hips proudly.
Judging from Phey’s pride, bringing back Boren didn’t seem to have caused much excitement among the group.
Rather, the group reacted more strongly to the supernatural tiger.
But their reaction was far from hostility or caution.
If anything, it bordered on kindness.
First off, the supernatural tiger’s appearance was far from ordinary.
With a body length of 5 meters and a shoulder height of about 160 centimeters, it was a strikingly large creature.
Its size, proportionate to an average adult woman’s height, made it a being that could make humans shrink back in fear and send shivers down their spines just by passing by.
At least, that was true for most people.
It didn’t apply to the group.
To them, the supernatural tiger wasn’t particularly terrifying or astonishing compared to myth killers, priests, monsters, or dragons they’d encountered.
Thus, instead of fear or caution, the group was preoccupied with brainstorming names for the tiger.
Though opinions differed, each member addressed the tiger differently.
Upon hearing one of these names—Wangbokshili—Aslan looked at the tiger pensively.
“No matter how you look at it, Wangbokshili is a bit…”
Unfinished thoughts hung in the air, but Phey frowned.
“Phey thinks Wangbokshili is cute and good.”
Her thoughts had been read. Realizing this, Aslan gave an awkward smile and glanced at the tiger.
“Shouldn’t we ask the tiger itself?”
When Phey tilted her head to look at the tiger, it let out a snort, clearly showing its displeasure.
“Bad Blessroom.”
Phey stuck out her lip, correcting the name.
Despite the scene being unbearably adorable, Aslan couldn’t help but laugh.
“So, why are you here?”
After the laughter subsided and Aslan asked, Phey suddenly remembered and exclaimed, “Oh!”
“Lumel came and said to eat.”
“Ah, okay. I’ll be right there.”
“Okay, Phey will go now. Need to take a walk with Blessroom.”
Nodding, the elven girl pulled on the tiger’s collar, turning its direction, and Aslan watched them go absentmindedly before wandering around the campsite.
As he walked slowly, the scenery of the campsite passed by just as leisurely.
People appeared startled and cowered at the sight of Phey riding the tiger.
However, their numbers weren’t overwhelmingly large.
This wasn’t because they had gotten used to the tiger, but due to the Empire’s efficient handling of affairs.
Most of the displaced residents had already departed with Regyn Solis to clear roads at the estate.
Indeed, the Empire’s processing speed was swift.
The relocation was proceeding gradually, and the verification of priests and faiths was happening quickly, rapidly emptying the campsite.
Within weeks, the camp would likely be vacated entirely.
Amidst this seemingly optimistic desolation of the campsite, Aslan sighed.
It was time to decide their next move.
The problem was that their next goal was vague.
Aslan wandered and pondered, reaching the campfire before his thoughts concluded.
The flames flickered, releasing a smoky scent. Nearby lay the sleeping quarters of Aslan’s group, where a slightly cooled stew pot rested.
There sat a few members of the group.
First and foremost was Tiamat.
Tiamat, devoid of the anger-filled expressions shown previously, was sharpening a short spear with an unexpectedly gentle blank face.
“Aslan, welcome.”
Not far from Tiamat sat Lumel.
Upon seeing Aslan approach, she naturally prepared a bowl and spoon for his meal.
Slightly farther away from Lumel, in the shadows near the fire, sat Ereta.
Ereta glanced at Aslan as if she had something to say immediately, but when Aslan turned to look at her, she quietly lowered her eyes, blushing.
No other members of the group were visible.
While Aslan had a rough idea of where Rowena and Phey were, the absence of others prompted him to naturally ask Lumel as he approached.
“Where are Angie and Richard?”
Looking around while asking, Lumel rolled her eyes mid-scoop.
“Richard has not returned yet. He seems to still be with the City Union. Angie went out to scout the surroundings.”
By the time she finished speaking, the bowl was filled not with stew but soup.
‘Not stew then.’
Aslan thought this as he accepted the bowl.
He processed Lumel’s words briefly.
Richard had family and a fiancée in the northern continent.
Thus, even if sending letters took time, it wasn’t unusual.
Moreover, as the heir of a ducal family, Richard wasn’t exactly free from vanity, so spending extra time in the City Union wasn’t surprising either.
On the other hand, Angie’s absence wasn’t particularly surprising.
Angie was naturally adventurous and enjoyed exploring.
Recalling these minor details, Aslan shrugged and sat down.
“Hmm?”
His spoon paused as he noticed the soup was unusually white, and so were the chunks floating in it.
Flipping them with the spoon, he identified fish.
“So, we’re having fish today.”
Had they received dried fish?
A fleeting thought, but it was unlikely.
The flesh was too plump and white to be dried fish.
Responding to Aslan’s curiosity, Lumel smiled gently.
“Ereta and I fetched it from the nearby sea.”
“Nearby… sea?”
Surely all the nearby seas were frozen solid under Ash’s Veil of Mercy.
Since the entirety of the Pervere Kingdom was like that, Aslan wore an expression of confusion.
Lumel glanced at Ereta and continued.
“The sea melted just by Ereta approaching. We fished out some freshly deceased ones. They were surprisingly fresh.”
“Not enough to allow a large ship to pass, though.”
Adding this detail, Aslan understood upon glancing at Ereta.
If Ereta’s divine power could counteract the death brought by Ash’s Veil of Mercy, even unconsciously, it made sense.
After all, maintaining the campsite itself relied on Ereta’s divine power.
“We found an abandoned boat near the harbor, repaired it, and went out on it.”
“Ah? You managed to repair it well.”
“Once you get the hang of it, it becomes easier… Plus, it was exciting to go boating after so long.”
Lumel smiled faintly.
Recalling Lumel’s mention of boating on a lake during her time at her family estate, Aslan nodded.
“Ah, perhaps Aslan would like to join us next time? It will surely be enjoyable.”
Caught off guard by the straightforward invitation, Aslan couldn’t dodge the question.
As casual responses flowed—”It’ll be fine, let’s do it”—Lumel shyly smiled in approval.
With the conversation momentarily paused, Aslan took a bite of the fish and creamy white soup.
The taste was excellent as always.
The soft texture and aroma from the rich cream complemented the flaky texture of the fish and the appropriately salted pork perfectly.
Subtly sweet vegetables added a mildly addictive flavor.
The larger pieces offered satisfying crunches, and whatever seasoning was used provided a savory umami kick.
It was the kind of dish that would pair wonderfully with warm bread.
Regretfully, all the bread had been eaten recently.
One can’t help what’s missing.
Silently finishing his bowl, Aslan continued to think as he moved his spoon.
‘What should be prioritized once this campsite empties and the group sets off again?’
At first glance, it might seem that obtaining the remaining grace of balance—specifically the grace of war and knowledge—should be the priority.
But that would mark the beginning of the final main quest and the start of the world’s destruction.
Once started, there would be no way to stop it.
Thus, it made sense to delay acquiring the grace of war and knowledge until the very end.
Aslan thought that the priority should be hunting down and recruiting master magicians and forming alliances with all nations.
Perhaps also identifying and excluding spirits that could hinder the plan.
The challenge was that neither the location of the master magician nor the spirit posing a threat was known.
Currently, the only feasible option, albeit time-consuming, was forming alliances with all nations.
Thus, Aslan naturally pondered the priorities.
First, which country to bring into the fold?
The closest options were the Maresa City Union, the Poliina Principality, and the Dein Border Duchy.
All three were friendly towards the Empire, so if prioritization were necessary, it would be the Poliina Principality.
Known also as the Magic Principality, it might assist in finding the master magician or provide direct leads.
This line of thought extended from Aslan’s battle with Tiyalmisof.
Relying solely on Aslan’s makeshift magic couldn’t continue indefinitely.
Aslan felt the need for a professional magician.
‘I should probably consult the others too…’
As Aslan thought about discussing this with the group once everyone was present,
not far away, Ereta, seated quietly, repeatedly glanced at Aslan.
Her gaze brimmed with shyness and embarrassment but carried a hint of resolve.
As Aslan obliviously clinked his spoon, eventually, Ereta glanced at Lumel, who was silently reading, and stood up.
Naturally, eyes followed her. Lumel stared intently. Yet, Ereta approached Aslan.
“Aslan.”
Her voice trembled slightly. Aslan looked up absent-mindedly.
“Hmm?”
Ereta hesitated for a moment.
Was it right to ask now, or not?
Anxiety briefly closed her mouth, but she took a deep breath.
“Would you like to go boating with me?”
She blurted it out almost forcefully.
Lumel, engrossed in her book, looked up with a betrayed expression.
Her gaze was sharp, almost giving the illusion of hostility.
But Ereta no longer wavered. Having spoken, she wasn’t afraid anymore.
Ignoring the other woman’s glare, she continued.
“Aslan seems to have a lot on his mind lately. I thought maybe taking some time to relax with boating might help.”
Unaware of the underlying emotions, Aslan, whose attention was elsewhere, responded slowly.
After blinking for a moment, he uttered an “Ah” and said,
“Actually, Lumel mentioned—”
“Lumel, being from a noble family, has probably done it often. I haven’t, so… please?”
There was logic to her argument. Coming from a baron’s household, Lumel, especially from a prosperous fief, would have certainly experienced boating before.
Moreover, no specific date had been set for the previous invitation, so Aslan deemed Ereta’s reasoning sound.
Only then did he notice the piercing gaze from behind and stammered slightly,
“Uh, alright. Let’s do it.”
Despite his sheepish smile, Ereta was thrilled.
Having secured the opportunity, she decided to seize it immediately.
“Great… Shall we go now?”
“Uh?”
Her cunning suggestion carried the calculation that going now would ensure Aslan’s exclusive company.
