As dusk settled over the city, the soldiers and civilians of Half-Horn were hard at work repairing the damaged walls. Suddenly, a cloud of dust rose in the distance along the main road leading to the city.
Through the haze, a squadron of cavalry galloped swiftly toward Half-Horn. Clad in the standard armor of the Imperial Provincial Defense Forces, they reached the gates and rode directly into the city.
"I demand to see your commanding officer immediately!" The leader, an Imperial Knight of the Fifth Rank, shouted sternly from atop his steed.
Before long, a wounded knight, Span, half-covered in bandages, was brought forward to meet him.
The cavalry commander, still mounted, cast a glance at Span before offering a slight nod. "Honorable Knight, I am Goron, Deputy Commander of the Second Cavalry Regiment under the direct authority of the Governor of Lier Province. By the Governor's orders, the area within a 300-mile radius of Half-Horn is hereby declared a military zone under my command. Effective immediately, I am assuming supreme authority over this region."
With that, Goron tossed a sealed document toward Span. "This is a decree personally signed by the Governor."
Span looked stunned. "The Governor... is he nearby?"
"No. The Governor remains at the provincial capital." Goron's expression darkened as he observed Span's battered condition. With a heavy sigh, he continued, "Knight Span, I must warn you: you're in serious trouble. The eldest son of Count Raymond, Vice Commander of the Imperial Military, has been attacked and gone missing within your jurisdiction. The Governor was profoundly shocked by your gross dereliction of duty. You should prepare yourself for the consequences.
"This emergency decree was sent via a magical portal facilitated by the Mage Guild and distributed to all military units participating in the Spring Maneuvers. As of now, the 30,000 provincial defense forces of Lier are to suspend their exercises and launch a full-scale search for the young heir of the Roland family. Moreover, your report of a mage openly assaulting a military camp has undoubtedly escalated tensions between the Imperial Army and the Mage Guild. You should also brace yourself to appear in court to testify; the Governor has summoned you to the capital to answer for your failures."
Span's face turned ashen. He knew his military career was all but over. The camp under his watch had been attacked by a mage, and the young heir of the Roland family had disappeared.
Though it was hard to pin the blame solely on him—after all, a mere Fourth-Rank Knight stood no chance against such a powerful mage—someone had to bear the brunt of the fallout.
Straightening his back with a salute, Span endured the searing pain from his injuries, cold sweat dripping down his face. "Thank you for the warning, Sir Goron. I will comply fully with the Governor's orders. I hereby relinquish command to you. As for the summons to the capital, when am I to depart?"
"Immediately," Goron declared solemnly. "By the Governor's second directive, Knight Span, you are hereby stripped of your rank as Deputy Commander of the Half-Horn Defense Forces for gross negligence. All officers in this unit are demoted by half a rank. Consider this an opportunity to redeem yourselves through service and merit. Knight Span, you must depart at once. The Governor expects your arrival at the capital by sunset tomorrow."
Seeing Span's haggard state, Goron hesitated before softening his tone. "Knight Span, I know this is not entirely your fault. Your injuries speak volumes about the effort you made. I will report everything I've seen and give an honest account of your actions. In my eyes, this tragedy was beyond your control, not a matter of negligence."
"...Thank you," Span murmured, shaking his head. "But I cannot absolve myself of blame. Very well, Sir Goron, the Roland family's Knight Robert is stationed outside the camp. I suggest you meet with him. Beyond that... I have nothing more to add."
As soldiers removed Span's helmet and stripped him of his officer's insignia, Goron felt a pang of sympathy.
Oh, Span… do you even realize the storm your report has unleashed?
On the surface, this seems like the abduction of a noble heir by a mage. But would even the heir of a powerful family like the Rolands warrant the suspension of military drills across the province to conduct a massive search?
The real issue lies in the brewing conflict between the Imperial Military and the Mage Guild.
While mages are often seen as untouchable due to their extraordinary powers, this blatant attack on the Imperial Defense Forces was an affront to the military—and by extension, the Empire itself.
To the military, this was not just an attack. It was rebellion. It was treason.
Back in the provincial capital, the Governor's advisors were already embroiled in heated debates. This incident, once reported to the Imperial High Command, would undoubtedly provoke widespread uproar.
The Empire's leadership had long been dissatisfied with the Mage Guild's excessive privileges. Even the Emperor himself had grown increasingly critical, particularly after the guild's lackluster support during the recent naval expedition in the southern seas.
Now, the Emperor was said to be considering reductions in the annual concessions granted to the Mage Guild. This attack might well serve as a pretext for such measures, though it was unlikely to lead to open confrontation.
The search for the young heir was key to resolving this crisis. Should the boy be found unharmed, tensions might subside. But if anything had happened to him...
The consequences would be unimaginable. The Roland family, a centuries-old bastion of military prestige, would never let such an affront go unanswered.
For now, the weight of this volatile situation fell heavily on Goron's shoulders as he prepared his forces for the arduous task ahead.Sir Gorlon swiftly assumed command of the city's defenses, dispatching his men to expedite the repairs on the collapsed walls caused by the previous night's earthquake. Afterward, he proceeded to the local garrison encampment beyond the city, where he encountered Sir Robert, who had just returned to change horses.
Battered and weary, Sir Robert was visibly struggling to maintain his composure. He had been tirelessly scouring the surrounding areas throughout the day. Though his body teetered on the brink of exhaustion, his spirit remained indomitable. Yet his steed, unlike its master, could no longer endure the relentless pace, necessitating a return to the garrison for a fresh mount.
Sir Gorlon promptly met with Sir Robert, and after a brief exchange, he learned that the provincial militia had already mobilized for a large-scale search operation in the vicinity. This news brought a faint look of relief to Sir Robert's worn face.
"Moreover," Sir Gorlon continued, "I presume the private forces of the Rowling family have also begun to assemble. By tomorrow afternoon at the latest, their light cavalry unit should have entered the province of Riel. The gravity of this matter... I fear it is unprecedented."
True to his heritage as a vassal of the illustrious Rowling family, Sir Robert, versed in the subtleties of power and politics, swiftly interjected, "You mean... the ramifications of the sorcerer's attack on the garrison?"
"Exactly," Sir Gorlon replied gravely. "I have brought a thousand cavalrymen with me, and the larger force is still en route. For now, I hold jurisdiction over a radius of three hundred miles centered here. Yet, to be frank, I harbor little confidence in this operation. However, the Governor's command leaves no room for compromise. Young Master Duwe must be found. Because…"
Lowering his voice and casting a cautious glance around, Sir Gorlon confided, "The Governor's private missive stated plainly: although the implications of this incident are profound, the higher echelons are unlikely to confront the Mage Guild directly. At most, they will exploit the situation to exert pressure, but decisive actions are improbable. Even His Majesty the Emperor would hesitate to antagonize the Mage Guild recklessly. Nonetheless, appearances must be maintained—a few strongly worded communiqués will be issued, condemnations will be made, and eventually, the matter will be quietly buried. The absence of casualties among the imperial forces at least provides a thread of diplomatic leeway. But the young noble… he is the linchpin. Should Master Duwe meet with misfortune… well, suffice it to say, there will be no easy resolution. Sir Robert, do you grasp my meaning?"
Sir Robert pondered briefly before nodding.
Indeed, should calamity befall Master Duwe—if, heaven forbid, he were to perish—then the repercussions would reverberate far beyond the tragedy of a single life lost. For the illustrious Rowling family, the death of the Earl's eldest son would demand retribution. Even if it was whispered that the Earl himself harbored little affection for this particular son, the family's honor would compel action. Centuries of military prestige and noble legacy could not permit such an affront to go unavenged. To acquiesce in the face of such a loss would signal weakness, potentially undermining the very foundation of the family's storied reputation.
From the Earl's position as patriarch of his house, the path forward was clear—he would pursue the matter to its bitter end. And if the Earl refused to relent, the extensive influence and alliances of the Rowling family within the Empire's military would come into play. The Rowling banner could rally a considerable faction within the imperial forces.
The prospect of a direct confrontation between the Empire's military and the Mage Guild loomed ominously. It was imperative, then, that Master Duwe be located—alive.
"What of the Mage Guild's response?" Sir Robert inquired, his tone heavy with suspicion.
"The Mage Guild?" Sir Gorlon sneered, his disdain unmistakable. "Their response from the provincial capital was as expected: they declared the matter an 'internal affair.' Internal affair! An outright assault on imperial forces—a flagrant act of rebellion and treachery—and they dismiss it as mere internal business! The Guild has always shielded their own. Their so-called internal resolutions are little more than perfunctory gestures, invariably amounting to nothing. These arrogant mages consider themselves indispensable to the Empire, untouchable by law. Hah!"
After a moment of reflection, Sir Robert spoke. "Sir Gorlon, I must point out that restricting the search to a three-hundred-mile radius may prove insufficient. The sorceress responsible for this brazen attack is far more formidable than we initially estimated. It is likely she has already fled beyond that range. Thus, I suggest…"
"I understand," Sir Gorlon interrupted, nodding. "Though the Governor's orders specify a radius of three hundred miles, he indicated in his private correspondence that the scope could be extended if necessary. Communication with the neighboring jurisdictions has already been established. To the east, the sea lies three hundred miles away, and the Governor has even requested support from the imperial navy. Given the Rowling family's entrenched influence within the navy, their cooperation is all but assured."
Sir Robert managed a faint smile, tinged with both hope and trepidation. "Let us only pray that Master Duwe is safe..."How is Duwe doing now?
Not well at all.
Duwe's shoes, once elegant lambskin boots fit for a nobleman, were now tattered and wholly unsuited for traversing the dense forest. The hems of his trousers were shredded by brambles, and his every step was a laborious effort as he leaned heavily on a sharpened wooden staff. The makeshift tool served not only as a walking stick but also as a rudimentary weapon.
With the formidable mage by his side now stripped of magic, Duwe was reduced to little more than a weary adolescent. Together, they navigated the perilous forest, ever vigilant against the threat of lurking beasts. While staying close to the dragon would have offered the greatest safety, necessity forced them to explore—for sustenance, and most urgently, for fresh water.
After circling the island, Duwe had mapped its primary features in his mind. The entire terrain was overwhelmingly dominated by forest. His throat burned with thirst, but to his growing despair, not a single drop of fresh water had been found. There were no springs, no streams, no tranquil freshwater lakes—nothing.
The island was small, its overall shape a slightly flattened circle. From east to west, it took only half a day's journey on foot. By Duwe's estimate, the island's diameter spanned no more than five miles. A small, desolate islet—one where the absence of freshwater could spell doom.
Duwe shook his head, sighing deeply.
The dragon was no longer a viable hope for escape. Riding it off the island was out of the question. The mage girl, Vivian, had also lost her magic. Her flight spell could barely sustain her for a few seconds before she would plummet helplessly. And surrounding them was an endless, unrelenting sea. Escape was impossible.
If they couldn't find food or water soon, their lives would be forfeit in a matter of days.
Behind him, Vivian trudged along with a forlorn expression, clinging to his lead like a lost child. Stranded on this unfamiliar and barren island, stripped of her magic—her greatest source of confidence—she was consumed by uncertainty and fear. Yet, inexplicably, following the very noble who often teased her brought her a peculiar sense of solace.
When Duwe proposed scouting the terrain, Vivian insisted on joining him, despite knowing that staying near the dragon offered the safest haven. After all, no creature—no matter how fearsome—would dare approach a dragon.
Having walked for hours, Vivian's feet throbbed with pain. She suspected blisters had already formed on her soles, but one glance at the grim-faced noble ahead silenced her complaints. She bit her lip, furrowing her brow, and followed.
Duwe, though irritable from the circumstances, noticed her discomfort. It was evident that the long trek was taking a toll on her frail frame.
"Let's rest for a moment," Duwe sighed, using his staff to prod the underbrush, ensuring no lurking snakes or other threats were nearby. He then helped Vivian sit down.
The relief of sitting was so overwhelming that Vivian nearly wept. She had never imagined such simple comfort could feel so precious.
Duwe, after some thought, removed his outer garment and quickly tore it into strips. Handing them to Vivian, he said, "Here. Your boots have hard soles—it's no wonder your feet are hurting after walking so far. Wrap these around your feet; it should help."
"Th-thank you…" Vivian stammered, her cheeks flushing slightly. After hesitating for a moment, she added, "Do you think… we'll find a way to leave this place?"
"Leave…" Duwe let out a bitter laugh. He couldn't bring himself to crush the girl's fragile hope. "First, we need to find food and water. We'll think about the rest afterward."
After a moment's pause, Duwe's expression grew serious. "Having walked most of the day, I can confirm a few things. First, judging by the seasonal wind patterns, this is the spring monsoon season at sea. From this, I'm certain we're on an island in the Eastern Sea of the Empire. Second, based on the vegetation, we're likely still within the Empire's southern territories—perhaps off the eastern coast of Riel Province. But…"
He hesitated, his face darkening. "There's one thing I'm deeply concerned about."
"What… what is it?" Vivian asked nervously.
"Have you noticed? We've covered a large portion of the island, yet we haven't seen a single living creature. Not a large beast, not even a snake or a mouse. This island seems devoid of life. And more than that, listen…"
Duwe raised a hand to his ear, signaling her to do the same. His tone was ominous. "Have you realized? For such a lush forest, there isn't a single birdcall. Not a sound of any living creature—not on the ground, not in the air. This isn't just strange—it's deeply unsettling."