"That was even quicker and cleaner than I expected. He knows when to let go." The Pope cast a glance at Asa's departing figure.
"One of his greatest strengths is he knows who he is. The second is his decisiveness. Even if he's someone who should be killed, he's not a person one can hate." Lancelote nodded.
"That's good. Our time is running out." The Pope nodded as well. He finally seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, but then suddenly coughed lightly twice. Two thin streams of crimson blood slowly trickled from his nostrils. He took a deep breath, drawing the blood back in, then wiped his hand across his face, leaving faint red streaks on his pale skin. But he didn't seem to notice—nor did he notice that blood was also seeping from his ears.
"Yes, our time is running out." Lancelote noticed, but he didn't look surprised. His eyes were filled with an indescribable heaviness. "I'll set out for the Duchy of Kross tonight…"
"It's not our time that's running out. It's mine." The Pope shook his head calmly. "You don't need to concern yourself with it."
Lancelote said nothing. His expression only grew heavier.
Asa did not stay at the Magic Academy but instead quietly made his way into the royal capital.
Though he now had free time, his heart refused to rest. In just ten days or so, he might be dead. Watching everyone busy and tense, knowing that the core of it all was actually just him—no one could stay calm in such a situation. The moment he tried to be still, to relax, a strange sense of restlessness would rise from deep within him, like a fire burning through his entire being, making him feel agitated and overheated.
He wandered through all the places he had once frequented in the capital—markets, taverns, even the now-leveled ruins of Sandru's big house. But instead of finding solace, his nostalgia only added fuel to the fire, making his unease even worse.
It wasn't always the event itself that was the hardest to endure—it was the waiting. And what he was waiting for was death. Yet this death wasn't entirely certain; there was a faint sliver of hope, like a distant glimmer of light in an abyss of darkness. That tiny possibility refused to let him resign himself to fate, leaving him tormented between the terror of death and the desperate yearning for life.
By the time he noticed his surroundings, night had already fallen. Unknowingly, he had wandered to the front of the Duke's manor. Due to the current state of emergency, the once-bustling streets were now eerily quiet. Only a few pedestrians hurried past, while faint lights flickered from within the manor.
Hidden in the shadows by the street, Asa studied the familiar mansion across from him. Almost everything had started from there. Too much had happened within those walls—so much that he once swore he would never return. The weight of those memories was too heavy, too overwhelming, making him reluctant to recall them. Yet now, he couldn't resist the sudden urge to walk inside.
"What are you planning to do?" A voice called from a distance behind him.
"Looking for a woman," Asa replied without turning around. He had noticed someone tailing him long ago and already knew exactly who it was.
"Why would you be looking for a woman?" The voice hesitated for a moment, carrying a strange tone.
"Because I don't believe you'd keep hiding and watching while I was in bed with one."
"You… someone like you… how could you possibly be… be…" The person stepped out from the corner behind him.
Despite the plain clothes, her tall frame and striking blonde hair made her impossible to overlook.
Even though Asa had expected it to be her, he was still slightly surprised when he saw Talice. Not because he didn't anticipate her presence, but because, for once, she wasn't wearing her usual knight's armor or warrior's attire. Instead, she was dressed in ordinary women's clothing. Yet, with her figure, even the simplest outfit looked strikingly elegant.
"You definitely look much better dressed as a woman. At least without the knight's armor, you don't have to bind your chest." Asa chuckled. "Judging by the way you're walking, is this the first time in your life you've worn a skirt?"
"You..." Talice's face flushed red, her expression an odd mix of embarrassment and frustration. "The master doesn't allow us to bring any equipment here, so I had to find something to wear at the last minute."
"Hmm." Asa thought for a moment, then said, "I'm bored anyway. How about we take a walk around the city?" He stepped forward, took Talice by the arm, and started walking.
She struggled to pull away but failed, reluctantly following for a few steps before finally wrenching her arm free with a sharp tug. Yet, despite that, she was already walking alongside him.
The streets were almost deserted. The once vibrant and dazzling night scene of the royal capital was gone, leaving only scattered street lamps casting lonely pools of light on the pavement.
Under normal circumstances, Asa would have never imagined himself strolling through the city with a woman—let alone this woman. But tonight was different from any other night.
"You were looking for me?" Talice had remained silent, so Asa spoke first.
Talice hesitated for a moment before asking, "I heard about it. Why you didn't run? Back in the Whispering Forest, you had the chance to escape."
"It's simple—I don't want to run." Asa looked at Talice. "Why are you asking? You don't actually want me to escape, do you?"
"Of course not!" Talice immediately responded, her voice firm and unwavering. Her expression was strange—almost confused, yet tinged with anger. "Why would someone as despicable, shameless, and dark-hearted as you make such a noble decision?"
"Noble?" Asa chuckled. "I don't see it that way. Do you?"
Under the dim streetlights, Asa could still make out the flush rising in Talice's face. As if trying to justify herself, she raised her voice. "You could have escaped alone to the Far East, but instead, you chose to stay and face death. Do you think that makes you some kind of hero? That it's something admirable?"
"What's wrong with you?" Asa asked, watching her carefully. He could tell something was deeply unsettling her.
"I don't know. I really don't know." All of a sudden, Talice's voice became choked with emotion. "I don't know what's right or wrong anymore. Who's right? Who's wrong?"
Asa was really surprised now. From the moment he met her—the female temple knight who had stormed into a bandit stronghold alone, slaughtering men throughout the way—she had always been more ruthless, more fearless than most men. If not for certain obvious differences, he might have even mistaken her for a man.
"After the fall of Glory Fortress… actually, Sir Lancelote told me to follow you," Talice said hesitantly. "He… he… said that if there was an opportunity, I should… I should…" Her face turned impossibly red, though at least half of it was due to anger. "He said that if I did that, you'd be far less likely to run away."
"What a clever tactic." Asa let out a wry smile. He understood perfectly well what she meant, even though she hadn't finished the sentence.
"You—!" Talice nearly jumped up in fury. "I would never do such a thing!"
"Relax. Even if you wanted to, I wouldn't," Asa replied flatly.
Talice suddenly stopped walking and turned to face him. There was an unexpected shimmer of tears in her eyes. "Then… then why… why did you—back in Nigen, why did you…?"
"I lost control back then," Asa said, meeting her gaze. His expression was serious, and his voice carried an uncharacteristic weight. "I'm truly sorry, Talice. I really am."
"How could Master ask me to do such a thing? This is the kind of thing only the filthiest politicians and the most wicked heretics would do! When I became a Holy Knight, I swore to dedicate my body and soul entirely to the Lord, and yet Master… And you! Ayime died because of you, and the plan of Master and His Majesty! His Majesty even ordered Tamik to massacre the elves in Whispering Forest, but now those same elves have allied with him—how does that make any sense? Can His Majesty and Master still be called good people? Can they still claim to be just? And you, someone like you, a villain, in the end, you get to play the role of some great savior! Are you people good or evil? Can anyone tell me, all the things I have done so far, are they right or wrong? The things I believed in so deeply—did they turn out to be nothing? Nothing at all?!"
Tears had long since streamed down Talice' face as she shouted, her voice nearly hoarse.
Asa sighed inwardly. So this was it. The strength women often showed was only because they had something to rely on, something to believe in. Faith could make a person strong, strong enough to suppress any emotion, to support them through anything—but once that faith shattered, they became weak beyond measure. He had already realized this back when they escaped from Glory Fortress, when he saw how Talice reacted to the sight of Ayime turned into a lich.
Talice wiped her face, her movements sharp and forceful. Asa saw her severed hand—the one that had been lost blocking a sword meant for him. He remembered it clearly.
"The world has never been about right or wrong. Whatever we've done, we have to bear the consequences, no matter what. But it's fine. Everything that was meant to happen has already happened. There won't be anything worse coming—that's actually a good thing, isn't it?"
Asa instinctively wrapped an arm around Talice' shoulders. Beneath his touch, her skin was smooth and soft, yet carried the firm resilience of well-trained muscles.
Suddenly, he seemed to sense something. He turned his head slightly, glancing toward the darkened Magic Academy. Talice, however, remained unaware.
High atop the academy's grand cathedral, Lancelote descended gracefully. He let out a long sigh, his expression visibly more relaxed than before.
Seventeen days—an incredibly short span of time for a battle that would determine the fate of the entire continent. Soon, Lord Borugan also arrived from Orford to assist in the preparations.
It took only three days for Lancelote to return with Grand Mage Caitlin from the Duchy of Kross. His face was exhausted, his robes still stained with dried, blackened blood that he hadn't even had the time to wash off. Yet the only thing he brought back was a single sentence: "Those two thousand are not a problem anymore."
Asa didn't need to get involved. The intricate details—like an enormous, complex puzzle—fell into place on their own. Each scattered piece found its right position, linking seamlessly with those around it. As the days passed, everything settled into place.
By now, many of the western nations—including Alrasia—had already begun moving their armies. In seventeen days, their finest warriors would converge upon the Fly Dragon Desert, where they would face the vast undead legions that awaited them.
The armies of Einfast and Orford, the farthest from the Spiral Shadow Mountains, remained unmoved. Firstly, the distance was simply too great—unless they relied entirely on flying beasts like griffins and wyverns, it would be impossible for them to arrive in time. Secondly, there was no real need for them to mobilize.
Alongside Lord Borugan came Grutt, and he brought more than just the news of Orford's full-scale deployment. He also carried four intact Star Eyes. The mines within the Saundfest Mountains no longer had time to be fully excavated, so Grutt had personally ventured in and retrieved these four gems himself.
The elves, who had been waiting at the Magic Academy, immediately took the gems back to the Whispering Forest. Elder Lloyd and Ruya would craft them into two Dimensional Gates as swiftly as possible. These gates would serve as the only passage for the Paladin Order and Orford's beast army to reach the battlefield.
Asa lost track of time. Whether it was long or short, he didn't feel it. Throughout all this time period, he was staying with Talice.