Inside one of the command tents—
officers gathered around a large table covered with detailed maps of the frontier.
Wooden markers had already been placed along every major road leading toward Eirundor.
Messengers came and went without pause, delivering reports before disappearing just as quickly.
The atmosphere was tense.
Then—
the tent flap was thrown open.
A familiar voice echoed through the command tent.
"...That brat only knows how to ask for favors."
A brief pause.
"Trying to work his own big sister to death."
She clicked her tongue in annoyance.
"...Some little brother he is."
Every conversation stopped.
The officers immediately turned toward the entrance.
"...Lady Xiomara!"
Without hesitation—
everyone inside bowed.
"Greetings, My Lady."
Xiomara waved a hand dismissively as she strode past them.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Enough of that."
Standing near the center of the tent—
a young man with black hair blinked before breaking into a smile.
"...Aunt Mara."
The entire tent fell silent.
Xiomara stopped walking.
Very slowly—
she turned her head toward him.
"...Damn brat."
One eye twitched.
"...Who the hell are you calling *Aunt?*"
The young man's smile vanished instantly.
"...Sorry, Master."
The correction came so quickly that several officers nearly laughed.
None of them dared.
The young man was **Elric Perlen**—
the eldest son of Count Perlen.
Vice Commander of Greywater's border forces.
And—
Lady Xiomara's personal disciple.
Despite holding considerable authority over the frontier military—
he still instinctively apologized whenever she glared at him.
Xiomara gave a satisfied snort.
"Better."
She continued toward the command table.
A cigarette rested lazily between her lips.
Without sparing anyone a glance—
she spoke.
"Jor sent me."
The atmosphere immediately shifted.
Every officer straightened.
Jor.
That was what Xiomara called her younger brother—
**Count Jorvik Perlen**.
She rested one hand against the edge of the table.
"He has an order."
The casual expression on her face disappeared.
Her voice grew noticeably more serious.
"The military is not to involve itself in any matter concerning that child."
Silence settled over the tent.
Several officers exchanged uncertain glances.
Commander Nylen, the officer overseeing the frontier defenses, stepped forward and bowed.
"...Understood, My Lady."
"The order will be relayed to every unit immediately."
Beside him—
Elric frowned slightly.
"...Father personally gave that order?"
Xiomara nodded once.
"He did."
She slowly looked around the tent.
"If that child passes through Greywater..."
"...you will observe."
"You will maintain order."
"And you will make sure the civilians don't do anything stupid."
She paused.
"But you will **not** pursue him."
"You will **not** provoke him."
"And you will absolutely **not** try to claim the bounty."
Her gaze swept across every officer present.
"Is that clear?"
A chorus of voices answered immediately.
"Yes, My Lady!"
Xiomara gave a satisfied nod.
"Good."
She took one final drag from her cigarette before dropping it to the ground and crushing it beneath her boot.
"Because if any of you ignore those orders..."
A faint smile spread across her face.
"...you'll have to answer to me first."
An uneasy silence followed.
No one doubted she meant every word.
Even Elric unconsciously straightened his back.
Among the Perlen family—
there was one person everyone feared angering.
And she was standing right in front of them.
---
Hours passed.
Night had fully settled over the wilderness.
The moon cast a pale silver glow across the endless sea of forest below.
Two figures continued moving relentlessly through the darkness.
One raced effortlessly across the treetops.
The other glided silently through the night sky overhead.
Neither of them had slowed even once.
Then—
Aldric suddenly came to a halt.
"...Hey."
"Wait a moment."
He folded his wings.
WHOOSH.
His body descended through the canopy.
THUD.
He landed lightly atop the thick branch of an ancient tree.
Several trees away—
Draven slowed to a stop as well.
His crimson eyes glowed faintly beneath the shadow of his hood.
He looked ahead.
His enhanced vision pierced through the darkness.
Mana.
Everywhere.
Hundreds.
No...
Thousands.
Spread across the frontier.
Some concealed among the trees.
Some gathered openly.
Others were still moving steadily toward the border.
Aldric let out a low whistle.
"...Well."
"It seems they figured out where we're going."
He folded his arms.
"But coming here like this..."
His eyes swept across the countless mana signatures.
"...they aren't even trying to hide."
A scoff escaped him.
"What the hell do they think?"
"That we'll just charge straight through them?"
"...That's dumb."
Draven answered without taking his eyes off the forest ahead.
"...Sounds like something you would do."
Silence.
Aldric slowly turned toward him.
"...Yeah."
A crooked smirk appeared on his face.
"Coming from the one who completely lost his mind in Blackwater."
He shrugged.
"I guess you're not planning on doing that again."
His gaze drifted back toward the countless presences surrounding the frontier.
"...You haven't sensed any Holy mana among them."
"So we're not fighting."
He clicked his tongue.
"Even if the Holy Empire is involved..."
"...starting a battle now would be stupid."
He glanced sideways at Draven.
"Unlike Blackwater..."
"...everyone here came prepared to kill you."
"And some of them are far too impatient."
Draven remained silent.
Then—
his eyes shifted.
Far in the distance—
perched atop the highest branch of an enormous pine tree—
stood a lone figure.
A demi-human.
Dark feathers covered parts of his arms, neck, and face.
His avian eyes shimmered with mana.
Locked directly onto them.
"...Found us."
Aldric followed his gaze.
The moment he spotted the scout—
his expression darkened.
"...Bastard."
The birdman froze.
The instant their eyes met—
his entire body became rigid.
Aldric's crimson eyes shimmered with an unnatural light.
His voice echoed calmly through the silent forest.
"...Now."
"...Kill yourself."
The birdman's pupils shrank violently.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
Without the slightest hesitation—
he slowly raised one hand toward his own throat.
Draven watched in silence.
The birdman's fingers dug into his neck.
Harder.
Harder.
Blood slowly began trickling between them.
Aldric let out a quiet snort.
"...Weak."
"A weak body."
"A weak mind."
"And an even weaker will."
Nearby—
Draven looked at him.
"...Huh."
Aldric raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"...This is the first time I've seen you do something like that."
"...Mind control."
Aldric shrugged as if it were nothing.
"Huh."
"If you're impressed by something this basic..."
"...then even as a vampire..."
"...you still have no idea what you're truly capable of."
Before Draven could reply—
the birdman's body suddenly jerked.
A glowing magic circle erupted beneath his feet.
His vacant eyes instantly regained their clarity.
"...Wha—"
BOOOOOOM!!
A colossal pillar of brilliant blue light exploded into the heavens.
The beam tore through the clouds.
Visible for kilometers in every direction.
Both Draven and Aldric turned toward it.
Silence.
Then—
Draven spoke flatly.
"...It seems you had your head so far up your own ass..."
"...you forgot to finish the job."
Aldric's jaw clenched.
The mocking remark stung far more than he wanted to admit.
"...Tch."
He glared at the blazing pillar of light piercing the night sky.
"...Thanks to that bastard..."
"...every bastard waiting along the border now knows exactly where we are."
As though responding to his words—
the forest erupted.
One after another—
countless mana signatures flared to life.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Then—
thousands.
The once-silent wilderness transformed into a sea of moving presences.
Branches shook.
Leaves rustled.
The air itself grew heavy with killing intent.
The hunters had found their prey.
And they were already closing in.