In the black-and-white Shadow Realm, Gawain, Amber, Betty, and the unnamed wild mage sat around a simple wooden table. In front of them was the lunch Betty had just prepared—plain slices of bread, fried sausages, and some vegetable soup.
Everything was devoid of color, like an old black-and-white photograph.
Gawain showed no intention of eating. Even though it was possible to cook in the Shadow Realm, he wasn't certain what would happen if a living human (presumably himself) ate food from this realm.
Amber and Betty also refrained from touching their forks.
The wild mage across from them didn't press them to eat; he quietly ate his own meal in silence.
An eerie sense of mutual understanding filled the cabin.
Finally, Gawain broke the silence. "How long have you been here?"
"A long time…" The wild mage set down his utensils with a polite nod. "I settled here in my second year after leaving the Arcane Society."
"You were a member of the Arcane Society?" Gawain asked in mild surprise. "I assumed you were always a wild mage."
"I was once a Level Two member of the Society…" the mage replied quietly. "By their standards, I was a poor caster—good at calculation and reasoning, but lacking the ability to convert that into spell models. In other words, my casting ability was perpetually at the beginner's level. Such mages aren't exactly valued in the Arcane Society."
"So, they kicked you out?" Amber asked, finding it hard to believe. She knew that even a poor caster was considered valuable.
The wild mage shook his head, turning to Betty. "I left on my own… for my daughter. I had to leave to find a cure for her."
Betty blinked in confusion at the wild mage, then nodded absentmindedly.
Gawain didn't dwell on this, instead fixing his gaze on the mage and resting his right hand on the hilt of his sword. "You must know why we're here. We don't have much time to waste."
The wild mage's stiff expression wavered slightly. His body shook, and he looked down. "Guest, I don't quite understand your meaning."
Betty glanced at Gawain with some anxiety. "Sir?"
After a moment's pause, Gawain removed his hand from his sword's hilt and softened his tone. "Let's give it a little time, then."
The wild mage returned to eating his meal in silence, occasionally lifting his gaze to look at Betty.
Eventually, though, the food would run out, and Gawain couldn't wait forever.
The wild mage finished his last bite of sausage, carefully wiping the soup plate clean with a piece of bread. He looked toward Betty, though his eyes didn't seem truly focused on her, gazing instead into a distant, unfathomable place.
His body swayed as if trying to stand, but he failed several times.
In the end, it was Betty who helped him to his feet.
"Father, I need to go…" the young girl said, gently holding the mage's arm to ensure he was steady before releasing him. She took a small step back toward Gawain. "Miss Rebecca and Madam Hetty are waiting for me. And… sir has come for me."
The wild mage's lips moved slightly, and he nodded gently, his expression calming as he gave her a few careful instructions. "Don't eat food from strangers. Go to bed on time. Listen to your teachers. Don't fight with other children."
The light of reason was rapidly fading from the man's eyes, and Gawain knew he was already drifting into delirium. In truth, he'd barely been lucid throughout their entire interaction.
The mage's figure gradually grew fainter, yet a flame-like energy suddenly ignited within him. Gawain had been waiting for this. In one swift motion, he drew the Sword of the Pioneer, its blade glowing faintly.
Amber quickly pulled Betty into her arms, covering the girl's eyes.
Gawain plunged his sword into the burning flame within the mage's chest. The flame quivered violently, halting the wild mage's transformation into an evil spirit. His ghostly figure solidified briefly before the flames consumed him entirely, reducing him to a charred, horrific corpse.
The corpse continued to burn for half a minute before it finally disintegrated into ashes.
From all directions, a cracking sound echoed. The small cabin began to crumble rapidly, riddled with countless fractures across the walls and roof. Pale light from the outside world seeped through the cracks, illuminating the room.
Gawain grabbed Amber and Betty, quickly pulling them out of the cabin. The moment they exited, the cabin collapsed entirely.
Before their eyes, the ruins of the cabin burst into flames, which burned for only a brief moment as though the structure was made of paper rather than wood.
As the ashes of the cabin floated away, Amber suddenly clutched Gawain's arm, pointing at the cabin's foundation in shock. "Hey, look at that!"
Gawain focused his gaze and saw a series of glowing lines emerging beneath the cabin's remains. The light shone through the scattered ashes, gradually forming a complex, massive structure—clearly the shape of a large magic array.
"This must have been the wild mage's greatest achievement…" Gawain nodded slightly. "It was probably a flaw in this array that led to his unfortunate end."
As he spoke, Betty's figure began to dissolve into flickering motes of light, swirling in place for a moment before flying back in the direction from which Gawain and Amber had come.
Amber looked down at her hands, seeing color gradually returning to them, restoring the natural hue that had faded to gray. As color flowed back into both her and Gawain, the Shadow Realm's hostility toward them became palpable.
Vague forms began coalescing in the thin mist around them, shapeless yet clearly malevolent. The native inhabitants of the Shadow Realm had finally sensed the presence of outsiders. Drawn to them like hyenas to the scent of blood, they gathered closer.
"We need to get out!" Amber urged. "This place isn't welcoming us anymore!"
Gawain took a final, intense look at the cabin's remnants, memorizing the glowing lines and symbols of the array. Then, grabbing Amber's arm, he commanded, "Let's go!"
After a brief dizziness, they reappeared in the real world.
The vengeful mist had dissipated, and the forest had returned to its original state. Exhausted, Rebecca and Hetty were leaning against a tree, supporting each other. Sir Byron, barely able to stand, used his sword to prop himself up, protecting the two women. The two remaining soldiers had collapsed onto the ground.
Betty, remarkably, seemed to be in the best condition of them all. She stood beside Rebecca, holding her frying pan with a blank expression, as if the look of bewilderment had become permanent.
Seeing Gawain, Hetty immediately struggled to her feet. "Ancestor, I'm so glad you're safe!"
Then her gaze fell on Amber behind Gawain, and her expression shifted subtly. "So the thief didn't flee, after all?"
"Hey! What's with the double standard?" Amber bristled, springing up like a cat with its tail stepped on. "Your ancestor and I just went through hell in the Shadow Realm to save you all! And you, you… big-chested, empty-headed old woman!"
Hetty, not expecting such a brazen comeback, scowled instantly. "Silence! Such rudeness! Do you realize what it means to insult a noble—"
Gawain quickly stepped between them to mediate. "Let's calm down! Amber's not lying; we did go together to resolve the crisis. Although… that comment about your chest was, well, unnecessary."
An awkward silence fell. Then Rebecca timidly raised her hand. "Ancestor, 'big-chested' was the only compliment in her whole sentence, and even that got shot down…"
Hetty looked utterly exasperated.
Gawain: "..."
Fortunately, Hetty was sensible and didn't dwell on the minor squabbles. Once Gawain explained what had transpired, all misunderstandings quickly faded.
Gawain and Amber's experiences in the Shadow Realm left everyone astonished. Even Sir Byron, with no knowledge of magic, couldn't resist listening in awe.
It was, after all, an experience beyond the imagination of ordinary people.
**"You can actually enter the Shadow Realm?"** Hetty's first concern, naturally, was Amber's unusual ability. She scrutinized the half-elf with a suspicious gaze, as if hoping to find the answer on her face. "Only a few high-level shadow mages or 'Chosen' of the Shadow Gods possess this power. How did you manage it?"
Amber turned her head away. "I'm the Chosen of the Goddess of the Night. Is that good enough?"
Hetty glared at her. "Nonsense. Could a Chosen be floored by Byron with an ordinary steel sword?"
"Let it go… don't press further," Gawain finally intervened, stopping Hetty's questioning. "I promised her not to pry. When she wants to talk, she will."
Ancestral authority was paramount, and with Gawain's word, Hetty had no choice but to drop the matter.
"Let's give the fallen a proper burial…" With the mist gone, warmth returned, and seeing that everyone had regained a bit of strength, Gawain stood and walked over to the soldier who had died from a shattered soul. "He fought bravely. He should be buried with the honor of a soldier."
The two surviving soldiers looked at Gawain with surprise.
Gawain frowned slightly. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
"He was born a serf…" Sir Byron stepped up. "The viscount issued a decree allowing serfs to join the territorial army to earn their freedom through service, but he had only served for six months. So, he is still legally a serf and cannot be buried as a soldier."
Gawain turned to Rebecca, brow furrowed. "Is that true?"
Rebecca instantly looked flustered, as if she'd made a grave mistake. "I… I'm sorry! It's just that I think the serf system isn't… isn't very fair, so I allowed them to earn freedom through service. I know it's against the rules, but…"
Gawain's frown softened. "No, I'm not blaming you."
He then knelt down, reached into his pocket, and retrieved a coin, placing it in the deceased soldier's chest pocket, right above his heart.
The coin had been placed there seven hundred years ago by King Charles I himself at the burial of Gawain Cecil.
Amber immediately recognized the coin, covering her eyes in mock horror. "Oh my… that's worth at least half an estate…"
But Gawain seemed oblivious to its value. He merely followed the customs he remembered, then rose and dusted off his hands. "His soul's debt is now redeemed. Bury him as a soldier."
Byron hesitated. "But… the rules…"
Gawain looked him in the eye. "I am the rules."