Matthew's POV
After concluding the discussion with the elderly woman, I left her cozy little house, carrying some simple provisions she'd given me.
She mentioned that Deborah would wake up in a day or two and that these supplies would help her regain her strength.
As I walked away, I couldn't help but glance back at the beautiful scene behind me.
In the distance, I could see the waterfall—the very one from the illusion where Deborah and I had our wedding.
It was still just as breathtaking, the water shimmering under the sunlight and casting a rainbow-like glow, pure and serene, just as it had been in the dream.
But sadly, it was only an illusion.
I quickened my pace, stepping through the vine-covered wall of Tirfothuinn.
The vines felt like a dividing line between reality and fantasy, separating Deborah and me with an unyielding force.
I couldn't bear to think about what would happen if, after we successfully brought the people of Murias here, we couldn't find a way to break through these vines—the Sanctifolium.
If it came down to that, I would rather wander with her outside Tirfothuinn than live here without her.
When I stepped out of the vine wall, I saw Deborah still lying weak on the ground, her breathing shallow but steady.
Heart aching, I approached and crouched beside her, carefully lifting her up in my arms, making sure every movement was gentle so as not to disturb her.
Then, I slowly carried her to our small boat.
Her body was still cold and lifeless, but at least the pain seemed to have left her face.
Clenching my teeth, I gripped the oar tightly and began rowing the boat away from Tirfothuinn's shore.
With each stroke, I pushed the oar deep into the water, feeling the resistance of the waves and the pull of the currents beneath us.
My teeth ground together as I stared at the open sea ahead, my heart heavily with anxiety.
But at the same time, I was relieved and grateful that the elderly woman had agreed to take in the people of Murias.
Finally, I managed to bring Deborah back to the shores of Conscientia.
Here, the land was supposed to be absolutely safe after passing through Conscientia's judgements —that's what the old woman told me.
Apart from the lack of food, there didn't seem to be any threats here.
But even so, I couldn't shake off my worry about Deborah's condition.
She still hadn't woken up, her face as pale as a sheet of paper.
I tried to reassure myself—the old woman said she would be fine.
She's going to be okay…
However, the waiting was excruciating.
Time and again, I checked her condition, straining my ears to catch the faint sound of her breathing.
Finally, after two long days and nights, as I was checking the temperature of her forehead, I felt her eyelashes flutter slightly.
Her breathing steadied, her lashes trembled softly, and then she slowly opened her eyes.
"Deborah!" I nearly collapsed beside her, clutching her hand tightly.
There was confusion in her eyes, but then clarity returned, and a weary smile tugged at her lips.
"You're awake… Thank goodness, Deborah!" I was so overwhelmed I could barely speak.
She coughed softly, struggling to sit up, her gaze still a bit unfocused. "Matthew, where… where are we?"
"We're back in Conscientia," I replied gently, trying to keep my voice calm. "You were unconscious for two days and nights. I've been waiting here the whole time."
She frowned slightly, lifting her head to gaze at me, a puzzled look in her eyes.
"The old woman in Tirfothuinn told me we're in Conscientia now.
Although there's no food, it's safe here," I explained. "And she agreed to our request—we can bring everyone from Murias to seek refuge in Tirfothuinn."
At my words, Deborah's eyes lit up.
"Really?" she asked softly, hope shining in her gaze.
I nodded.
"Yes, but she said we all have to pass through Conscientia's judgements." I smiled wryly. "That illusion we experienced earlier—it might have been one of those so-called 'judgements'."
Deborah lowered her gaze, deep in thought. "I see… So, everyone from Murias has to go through such a judgement as well, don't they?"
I nodded, holding her hand tightly.
"Yes, everyone will have to face Conscientia's test—just like we did."
She was silent for a moment, then let out a soft sigh.
"But we made it," she whispered, her voice laced with exhaustion and relief.
She was still weak, her face still pale, but there was a resilience in her eyes that filled me with admiration and affection.
She always thought of others, always so selfless.
For the next two days, we rested in Conscientia until Deborah fully regained her strength.
Then we set out once more to continue mapping our way back to Murias.
As we explored, we ventured into ruins and desolate lands, each step forward like navigating a maze of the unknown.
We found an abandoned village. The houses were crumbling, debris littered the ground, and there were no usable resources.
We searched every corner, but found nothing—only the sound of the wind whistling through the empty streets.
We pressed on to a ruined town. The buildings had collapsed, and dust hung heavy in the air.
After hours of searching, we managed to scavenge a few expired cans and some long-stale water.
We crossed a barren desert and stumbled upon a withered forest nearby.
All the trees were dead, but there were hardly any mutated creatures around during the day, and the threats at night were relatively mild.
We carefully explored every safe path, noting every temporary resting point along the way.
Every search ended in disappointment, but each new path we discovered felt like a tiny glimmer of hope.
As long as we were standing, we would never give up. We had to find a way out for the people of Murias.
We painstakingly pieced together a relatively safe route, mapping out every landmark and preparing for the upcoming migration.
Though the path was far from perfect, at least—at long last—it was a road leading to hope.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of wandering, we returned to the familiar entrance of the underground city of Murias.