A treasure that had simply rolled in.

Yes, for Rutherford, no other words could have better described the gypsy’s sudden appearance. The Bariel army’s morale was ferocious, so high it seemed to tear at the very sky, and while the Burgos forces were holding their ground, an inexplicable anxiety lingered.

It was, perhaps, because his god remained silent.

“Pardon the intrusion. Keh, keh, keh. We are old acquaintances, are we not?”

Just then, the gypsy had sought him out.

She was the one who had wandered the Abyss with Ian Hielo. An ambiguous woman, existing in a grey zone—not quite an enemy, but far from a trustworthy ally. Rutherford knew she had deep ties to Damon, but this seemed to be the first time they had met face-to-face without that connection.

“Acquaintances, yes. But what is your business? Was it Ian Hielo who sent you?”

“Of course not! I have come because I have a mutually beneficial proposal.”

“You can feel the walls shaking, can’t you? I hope this proposal is a quick and fitting one. Otherwise, I will have you thrown from this rampart.”

“My, how harsh.”

The gypsy showed no sign of fear. It was impossible to read the expression hidden deep beneath her robe, but her steady voice was proof enough. She crept closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Perhaps… you have a secret?”

“A secret?”

“Yes. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I possess all the world’s secrets. Even the great Emperor of Bariel, fighting so hard outside, has given me a secret.”

“That… is intriguing.”

“Ian Hielo. I also possess the secret of that man, Bariel’s Minister of Magic. The secret of his origin. However, once a secret is in my belly, it no longer gives me any pleasure beyond a simple fullness. If you, Rutherford, have a secret of comparable value, give it to me. In exchange, I will give you Ian Hielo’s.”

“Ian Hielo’s secret.”

“You saw him back then, did you not? In the Abyss?”

In the Abyss, Ian’s form had been completely different from his appearance on Gaia. He was not a young boy with golden hair and green eyes, but a mature man with platinum blond hair and blue eyes. His physique, his aura… even that had felt subtly different. At the time, Rutherford hadn’t been able to identify the platinum-haired man who had attacked him.

“Yes. I saw him. That is Ian’s secret?”

“Of course! Surely you didn’t mistake it for some meaningless hallucination, did you?”

It was a taunt, asking if he’d been that foolish. Rutherford’s brow furrowed slightly. He placed his long pipe on the table. “Obviously not.”

“Then this is your chance. A chance to see the truth in an instant.”

“…Come closer.”

Rutherford gestured, signaling his acceptance of the proposal.

Joy was evident in the gypsy’s step. She leaned in close, offering her ear. Rutherford whispered, “But tell me, is it true?”

“What is, sir?”

“That if I cut open your belly, the world will fall into chaos.”

The gypsy flinched at his chilly tone but did not back away. It was just a question, after all, and she desperately needed the great secret that Rutherford seemed ready to give.

“It is. The secrets still remaining inside me will seek out their original masters, and the world will be thrown into disarray.”

“Exactly what King Damon told me.”

Grip! Rutherford’s hand shot out, seizing her shoulder. The old woman tried to twist away, but she couldn’t break free, succeeding only in pulling herself closer to him.

“It’s truly a shame,” Rutherford said.

“Let… let go of me!”

“Because, you see, I have no secret to give. I, who have endured hundreds of deaths and lives… I would rather everyone know my story.”

Squeeze! He tightened his grip, strangling her. Her robe fell away, revealing gills that flapped uselessly. Flip, flip. It was a desperate gasp for air, but it would not come.

“I have nothing to give, but you, it seems, have plenty. Shall I gladly take it from you?”

“K-Heo-eok… Y-You… damned—!”

Shwiiiik!

A fin thrashed violently from beneath her robes. For a second, Rutherford felt her body go strangely pliant, almost like mud, and he instantly recognized it as an attempt to flee into the Abyss. He tightened his grip, but she was already fading.

“You—! Next time—!”

Next time we meet, I’ll kill you! The gypsy shrieked, her form nearly gone, when—

“Cut the fins.”

It was the voice of his god, the voice Rutherford had been waiting for. Reacting instantly, Rutherford drew a dagger and stabbed the half-vanished fin, pouring his strength into the blow.

“Before the belly, split the gills.”

Kwaaak!

“Aaaaaaaak!”

The fading shape solidified, crashing back into reality. A blue, blood-like substance poured from the severed fin. The gypsy, sensing the mortal danger, tried to crawl away on two arms.

“It seems the god does not wish for you to return to the Abyss,” Rutherford mused. “Now, let us see inside. Let’s see just how much of Ian Hielo’s secret is left.”

“You… who were deceived by a mere shadow… how dare you!”

“A shadow?”

Slash!

Rutherford deflected her flailing, then drew his sword and slashed her fin again. The gypsy screamed in agony, thrashing, sending tables and chairs scattering. Clang! He considered striking again, but stopped. Isn’t this a fitting price for her blasphemy? And more importantly…

“Go on, keep babbling. The more you do, the more painful your death will be. I truly don’t know what possessed you to appear before me.”

…the god, who had been silent for so long, had finally answered. The anxiety that had been gnawing at Rutherford’s heart was washed away. The god was still with him, still watching over him. The shaking of the walls now seemed like just another part of the process, a step toward his ascension.

“In any case, I thank you, gypsy.”

Rutherford mounted her, pressing his sword to her neck.

Just then, the door burst open, and the soldiers, hearing the commotion, rushed in. Rutherford, without looking up, just smiled and said, “I’m just about to cut open this little piece of treasure that rolled in.”

“Ah, but…”

“Get out.”

“Lord Rutherford.”

A familiar man pushed through the soldiers. Rutherford’s brow furrowed. Who is this?

“Clark?”

“Yes, it is Clark. I am glad to see you are safe.”

“How did you get out of the Abyss?”

“It is a very long story. May I explain?”

Clark slowly approached, his eyes on Rutherford’s sword. The gypsy stared at Clark with terror-filled eyes. Rutherford immediately sensed the strange tension between them. So, Clark and the gypsy know each other. Clark, an ordinary human, couldn’t have escaped the Abyss alone.

“Did you have her help?”

“…Yes. That is correct.”

“Aha. Clark.”

Thwack!

In a flash, Rutherford struck the gypsy on the back of the neck. She went limp, unconscious. Rutherford gestured with the dagger for Clark to approach.

“What is your purpose? Are you here to see me? Or to save her?”

“…The price for my escape has been paid. I have no further connection to this person.”

“Then come here and split her gills for me, will you?”

“Sir?”

Rutherford smiled, grabbing a handful of the gypsy’s hair. “He said to split the gills before cutting the belly.”

“The… god… said that?”

“Yes. I received the revelation just now.”

Clark froze. Is Rutherford blind? In the Abyss, Clark had also witnessed that… that colossal thing. But it had looked far more like a monster than a god…

“Do you… refuse?”

It was a test. Clark knew it. If he refused, Rutherford would suspect him and kill him. He took one step, then another, toward the unconscious gypsy.

Shing…

His hand went to his own sword. Maybe… maybe I should just cut Rutherford down right now? If he just pretended to attack the gypsy and killed Rutherford instead, wouldn’t this all be over? The source of all this tragedy was right there.

“Clark.”

At that moment, Rutherford looked up at him, his voice low. “I’ve felt this before, but you… you truly do not know how to hide what is in your eyes.” It’s why you had that affair with the Merellof woman.

As Clark drew near, Rutherford lunged, swinging his sword. It was the signal. The soldiers attacked as one.

Clang! Chang!

“After you’ve disposed of him,” Rutherford said to one of his soldiers, “you will stay here and cut this creature’s gills and belly.”

“M-Me, sir?”

“You have a long tongue.”

“M-My apologies!”

Meanwhile, Clark fell back, his blood running cold. The space was too tight, cluttered with furniture, and there was only one exit. The window was a drop of several meters; not an option.

‘Can I get the gypsy out of here?’

He watched as the soldier designated by Rutherford moved toward the gypsy with a dagger. Rutherford stopped him with a raised hand.

“Do it after I’ve left.”

He clearly knew some kind of shockwave would be unleashed the moment she was cut.

Clark, seeing his chance, roared. “No! You mustn’t kill her!”

“Shut up! Get him!”

“He’s the intruder!”

“K-Heok!”

The soldiers’ blades stabbed into Clark’s shoulder, waist, and thigh. Blood bloomed on his clothes, but he ignored it, pushing through them in a desperate lunge for the gypsy.

Seeing him charge, the soldier moved even faster, plunging the dagger toward the gypsy’s gills.

KWAAAANG! JJAENG! WAJANGCHANG!

In that instant, a massive explosion erupted from the gypsy’s body. The windows shattered, and a violent wind tore through the room, strong enough to send all the furniture flying.

The soldiers ducked, but only for a moment. The one who had stabbed the gypsy stared blankly into the air, then collapsed. Thump.

“Ugh! What is that smell?”

“U-Uweeeek! Uweek!”

One by one, the soldiers began to retch violently, falling to their knees.

Clark had no way to avoid it either. He dragged himself toward the shattered window, desperate for fresh air, barely holding onto his fading consciousness. Her belly… her belly wasn’t cut. So there’s still hope, isn’t there? But how?

‘I have hope, but no way to act on it.’

Kuung!

Clark’s body tipped over the windowsill. He fell silently from the height of several meters. As he hit the ground, the jewel in his pocket shattered.

***

“The signal is lost!”

The soldier in charge of monitoring the jewel shouted to Barsabe. Melania’s head snapped up. The Three Great Commanders, standing nearby, stared grimly at the distant rampart.

“That means he’s no longer able to approach Rutherford.”

“Or,” Melania added, “he approached, and… he was dealt with.”

“Either way, this is a red signal for us.”

The immediate problem was the unknown attack that put the Emperor’s safety at risk. Bonita, one of the Three Great Commanders, considered this, then nodded decisively.

“We cannot just stand here and wait. I’m selecting an infiltration team. We will infiltrate to the last known coordinates, assess the situation, and neutralize the source of the attack.”

“But that’s the heart of the enemy’s stronghold! It’s too dangerous!”

“If we stay here, His Majesty remains in danger.” Look at how the Astana mages died. Slumped over dead without a sound. If they couldn’t find the source, the Imperial Guard would be cut down before they could even defend the Emperor.

“Who will go with me?”

It was, for all intents and purposes, a suicide mission. And yet, every Imperial Guard member raised their hand—all except Beric, who was just idly picking his ear.

Bonita began checking her weapons. “Good. Beric, Barsabe, Kanna, Wakion. You’re with me.”

“Me? I didn’t say I was going!”

“You’re the only one here who knows what this ‘Clark’ person looks like, aren’t you?”

Ah, shit. She’s got me there. Beric froze, his mouth hanging open.

Bonita ignored him and turned to Barsabe. “Exact location?”

“Approximately one hundred meters north of the First Gate.”

“We’ll infiltrate from the air. We’ll go around the mages’ battle zone and descend. How long will it take?”

“Uh, well…” The ramparts were a raging battle. Going by air meant they needed a mage’s help, but every mage was locked in combat…

“Thirty seconds,” Beric grumbled, pulling his armor tight. “Look, Kkyu’s coming back. If we ride that, it’s a 30-second drop, easy.”

Kkyuuuuu!

The dragon, Kkyu, was descending toward the Bariel camp, its two unconscious scribes still strapped to its back, its tail spinning in lazy circles.