In mid-September, the weather was cool and mild. Autumn wind swept across the arena, carrying pale golden sunlight down over the stands and the silver hair of the Snow Leopard spirit.
And yet, the maid Thomas had detained for questioning felt ice-cold all over, as if she were standing in the middle of a freezing winter day.
“Your Grace…?”
Her voice trembled.
The tray of fruit and desserts in her hands shook with it. A few grapes rolled out of place, tumbled onto the white stone floor, and came to a stop beside the table leg.
Thomas looked at her.
“Do I need to repeat the question?”
He spoke very softly. He was neither angry nor impatient.
But the gaze of the royal watching its prey kept the maid from daring to raise her head.
She did not answer.
Thomas did not press her.
He merely shifted his gaze toward the Snow Leopard spirit as it strode proudly through the curtain of white snow. Its fur reflected the silver light, every movement beautiful to the point of unreality.
The entire Frostfang Arena was drowning in excitement.
Praises for Rebecca rang throughout the stands. Admiration for her beauty and strength rose one wave after another like the tide.
Thomas saw the astonishment and satisfaction on the faces of the supervising officials who had accompanied him.
He also saw the undisguised pride and affection in Duke and Duchess Crozier’s eyes as they watched their two children.
There was only one difference.
Johannes was still smiling.
He retained his usual composed, lazy air, as though Rebecca’s performance were only to be expected and not worth being surprised over.
But his eyes kept flicking down toward the stone floor.
Each time, only for an instant.
If one was not watching closely enough, no one would have noticed.
Thomas did.
He caught the brief flash of worry across Johannes’s face. It vanished almost immediately, concealed beneath his arrogant smile and familiar relaxed posture. Thomas frowned slightly and shifted his gaze toward Rebecca.
The hand resting on her resonance crystal trembled.
Barely.
Rebecca quickly withdrew her hand, pretending to lift a strand of windblown hair behind her ear. The movement was so natural that most of the people in the stands failed to notice.
But Thomas saw it clearly.
That hand was trembling.
For the first time in many years, Thomas’s gaze toward Rebecca was no longer one of complete trust.
He knew the Crozier family had done everything they could to help her escape the terrible poison that had tormented her body. They had never hidden that from him.
Thomas even knew that Rebecca’s most recent treatment, conducted just before the Trial Ceremony, had gone extremely well.
That was precisely why she had been able to complete the bloodline examination so brilliantly today.
But…
Something was still wrong.
There was one missing link he had yet to see.
Thomas lowered his gaze to the stone beneath Rebecca’s feet.
“Why isn’t Franziska here today?”
The sudden question made the maid freeze.
Her eyes widened. The color drained from her face at once.
She looked like someone who had just been asked about the one thing she had been explicitly ordered never to mention.
She did not dare give a careless answer.
And that silence gave Thomas the answer he least wanted to believe.
He knew there was a prayer room beneath the arena.
He also knew that Franziska was taken there every month.
Everyone had told him that she performed a supplementary ritual to help Rebecca feel better after each treatment.
An orphaned child adopted by the Crozier family, frail and frequently ill, yet still stubbornly using what little light she possessed to ease Rebecca’s pain and improve the results of her treatment.
Thomas had believed that.
He had thought Franziska was simply doing what she could.
He had never imagined that every time she was taken down there, she had to pay a price far greater than he knew.
“The Little Duke just glanced this way, Your Highness.”
One of Thomas’s attendants, who had remained silent since the beginning of the ceremony, suddenly spoke.
At the reminder, Thomas shifted his gaze below the ceremonial platform.
He met Johannes’s wary, watchful eyes.
The two stared at each other across the distance between the stands and the falling snow.
Johannes was still smiling, but the laziness in his eyes had vanished.
Thomas tugged lightly at the corner of his mouth, forming a curve almost like a smile.
He still remembered exactly who he was and where he stood.
He could not question Johannes in the middle of the arena.
But neither was the gesture an act of letting the matter go.
It only meant that Thomas had realized something was being concealed.
And he would remember it.
The attendant took advantage of the moment to signal the maid to withdraw.
“Leave.”
As if she had been granted a pardon, the maid immediately bowed as low as she could and hurried away from the ceremonial platform. Even after taking several steps, she did not dare breathe heavily, afraid that if she turned around, the Grand Duke’s gaze would once again hold her rooted to the spot.
The attendant also returned to his former position, resuming his silence like a statue standing beside Thomas.
Below the platform, Johannes happened to catch sight of the departing maid.
He saw how pale she was, then looked back at Thomas.
He understood.
Thomas was suspicious.
No—perhaps it was more than suspicion.
He had seen some kind of sign.
Johannes kept his smiling face and leisurely air, but his gaze gradually turned cold, like a leopard silently watching its enemy.
Even though Johannes knew that he and Thomas should not become enemies.
Thomas continued looking at him.
After a brief silence, he gave a slight nod.
Johannes understood that the gesture was not a greeting.
Thomas was saying that he knew something was being hidden.
But he would not expose everything here.
Johannes placed a hand over his left chest and bowed his head slightly in the most respectful gesture of courtesy.
A silent reply.
I understand.
Beside him, Rebecca had not noticed the undercurrent that had just passed between them.
Her entire mind was filled with anger.
Franziska had actually altered the ritual on her own.
“Franziska! Stop!”
Rebecca transmitted her voice through the link between them.
“I never asked you to trade your life for mine!”
The furious voice echoed through Franziska’s mind.
She suddenly laughed.
Strangely enough, after hearing that voice, she was no longer as frightened as before.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you get angry, Duchess.”
Franziska teased her, trying to sound calm, as though the pain racing through her body and spreading into her heart did not exist.
A sharp surge of spiritual power from the formation beneath her feet pierced straight through her meridians. Franziska bit down hard on her lip, feeling as if her body were dissolving into countless fragments beneath the enormous pressure. She had realized that the poison in Rebecca’s heart was not an ordinary toxin, but magical-beast miasma that had sunk deep into her heart and was slowly devouring her soul. Franziska could not force it out by sheer power. Recklessly, she used her will to guide her soul into becoming a shield around Rebecca’s heart. Only then could she gradually draw all the miasma out at once without breaking the flow. However, this required an enormous amount of spiritual power, causing the miasma to fight back violently. Franziska’s spiritual power was stretched beyond what her body could endure.
Blood dripped from her wrists. Her body now hurt as though it were being torn into countless pieces.
“I won’t die.”
She spoke very softly.
Her voice was so faint it seemed as though it would dissolve into the wind and disappear at any moment.
Rebecca heard her.
The anger within her wavered, mingling with a more complicated emotion.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
The voice traveling through the link suddenly trembled.
For the first time, Rebecca felt afraid. Perhaps it was because she could feel Franziska’s heartbeat growing weaker.
Perhaps it was because she knew Franziska was lying.
Or perhaps she truly feared that this girl would die because of her.
“I know.”
Franziska answered.
Her fingers shifted position again.
Countless strands of light immediately burst through her skin, dragging thin trails of red blood behind them. They latched onto the link between her and Rebecca, then followed the pathway that had already been opened into Rebecca’s body.
Their target was the heart shrouded in a layer of poisonous mist.
The strands of light wrapped tightly around the black mist.
The moment had arrived.
Franziska’s eyes flew open.
She quickly drew another formation outside the transmission circle and recited a longer, more complex ancient incantation.
Her slender body suddenly blazed with light. Strange patterns appeared one after another across her skin, tracing along her wrists and shoulders before spreading down over her chest, accompanied by dry, cracking sounds.
Only then did the old physician come to his senses.
He looked at the formation and the patterns across Franziska’s body, and his expression changed instantly.
“Miss Franziska! You can’t use your soul as a conduit!”
Franziska heard him.
But she did not answer.
It was impossible to stop now.
And she did not want to stop.
“Miss! You won’t be able to endure this!”
The old physician hurried forward. He knew he could not forcibly interrupt the ritual, because even the slightest deviation would cause the spiritual power to backlash, tearing apart both Franziska’s body and the link with Rebecca.
“Almost there.”
Franziska could only speak in broken fragments.
“Just a little longer.”
“Miss!”
“This opportunity will only come once.”
The old physician watched the strands of light draw blood from her small, thin body.
The blood seemed to flow without end.
His heart ached, but he also understood that she was right.
The poison in Rebecca’s body was unlike any ordinary toxin.
It clung to her heart through her blood and flesh, then was gradually nourished into a living entity. After each purification, it did not disappear completely. It merely retreated deeper, clinging more tightly to the Snow Leopard’s soul.
Unless they found an opportunity to resolve it once and for all, future purifications would only become more difficult.
That was why Rebecca’s treatment had continued until now.
The old physician closed his eyes for a moment.
In the end, he had no other choice.
“Miss Franziska, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Franziska gave a faint smile when she heard those words.
The smile was exceedingly weak, because her hearing had already begun to fade.
She closed her eyes and carefully sensed every line of the formation.
The ancient incantation continued.
The blood within her body continued to be drawn out.
“Franziska! Stop! I’m telling you to stop!”
Rebecca’s voice rang through her mind again, more panicked than before.
But this time, Franziska did not answer.
She needed to preserve the last of her strength.
She focused on the formation, patiently waiting until the black mist was bound tight and gradually separated from Rebecca’s heart without harming her soul.
At last, Franziska’s eyes flew open.
Her pupils gave off a faint purple glow. The light was very weak, but it could not conceal the noble feeling buried deep within her bloodline.
“Help me set up a barrier around this room.”
She spoke quickly to the old physician while she had the chance.
He did not ask what she intended to do.
He acted immediately.
The soul of a gigantic panda appeared behind him. Black-and-white streams of light spread in every direction, covering the entire Prayer Room with a dense barrier.
The sounds and vibrations within were immediately cut off from the outside world.
Hummm… hummm… hummm…
Deep, muffled vibrations reverberated throughout the room.
As soon as the barrier was complete, the black mist was pulled entirely out of Rebecca’s body.
Franziska instinctively spat out several mouthfuls of blood.
Her vision was quickly dyed red. The last sounds around her gradually sank into the void.
The transparent horns atop Franziska’s head suddenly trembled.
The left horn cracked and broke off.
The fragment did not fall straight to the ground.
It hovered in midair, radiating a powerful force of attraction that pulled all the black mist toward it.
Multicolored light erupted inside the horn fragment, swallowing the toxin and crushing it into countless specks of light.
Then both the horn fragment and the black mist vanished.
BOOM!
The ritual was finally complete.
A shock wave of energy exploded through the Prayer Room.
The candles were blown out all at once. Tables, chairs, and the instruments on the stone table flew in every direction, striking the walls with shrill crashes.
The barrier shook violently but held firm.
No one knew how much time passed before everything gradually fell silent again.
Franziska gasped for breath. Her body went limp and collapsed onto the freezing stone floor.
She no longer had the strength to hold herself up, nor did she know how violently the light beneath the arena had shaken the world above.
Just before she completely lost consciousness, she managed to think of one thing.
Perhaps, someday, she would be able to live a little more freely.