Rewinding to the exact moment the magic beast was incinerated—
Deep within the heart of the Royal Castle, the Queen sat alone in her private chambers. Her slender fingers drummed a rhythmic, impatient beat against the arm of her throne-like chair.
"The sparrow has been gone for far too long..." she murmured to the empty room. "By now, the perimeter of the castle grounds should have been swept clean. If Lunethia had been found, she should already be back in my custody."
The silence in the room was absolute—heavy, stagnant, and suffocating. Time seemed to stretch into an infinite, agonizing crawl.
Suddenly—
CRACK!
The runic scepter resting on the table erupted, a violent fracture splitting its length! Shards of enchanted stone and metal scattered across the tabletop and clattered onto the floor.
The Queen froze. She looked down slowly at the broken remains of her scepter, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and pure disbelief.
The destruction of the scepter signaled only two possibilities: either the Moon-Shadow Owl had been slaughtered, or the binding magic woven into it had been forcibly unraveled.
Whichever the case, the conclusion was the same. The operation had failed.
The Queen stood and approached the table, her voice dropping to a low, venomous rasp. "Impossible... No one should be able to breach the defenses of my constructs. To kill one... is unthinkable."
Her fist clenched until her knuckles turned white.
SLAM!
She brought her fist down on the table with a violent crash.
In that exact moment, the large mirror across the room began to pulse with a faint, eerie light. Within the silvered depths of the glass, a familiar silhouette slowly materialized.
The Queen-in-the-Mirror.
She watched her counterpart in the physical world, a cold, mocking smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Heh... dear sister," the reflection purred. "I warned you, didn't I? No one is going to kill my precious Lunethia. Why do you insist on this futile pursuit?"
The Queen whipped her head around, her eyes blazing with a volcanic fury. "This was your doing?! You left a contingency behind! When did you arrange this?!"
The Mirror Queen tilted her head with playful grace, her tone dripping with malicious amusement. "Why don't you try and guess? I've been trapped in this glass for so many years... how do you think I managed to arrange protection for Lunethia from in here?"
The Queen's face contorted, turning a sickly, ashen shade of rage.
She bit down on her thumb nail, her brow furrowed into a tight, jagged line.
"Is it possible... that someone out there is actually capable of defeating a magic construct?" She shook her head quickly, dismissing her own thought. "No... that can't be right."
"Perhaps the sparrow was too simplistic," she muttered under her breath. "Perhaps it was lured into a trap... or fell victim to some unforeseen accident."
She continued to pace, her voice a low, frantic murmur. "No, even that doesn't make sense. I didn't issue a self-destruct command. Even if it encountered another magic beast, it should have had the instinct to retreat..."
Silence reclaimed the room, save for the Queen's shallow, ragged breathing echoing in the shadows.
Watching the Queen spiral into her own deductions, the Queen-in-the-Mirror couldn't help but let out another peal of laughter.
"Enough, sister," the reflection mocked, her voice sharp and dripping with derision. "To manifest that construct, you've already drained a massive amount of your mana. You even had to tap into your reserve of Mana Gems."
Her voice turned cold and teasing. "What exactly do you have left? Surely you don't plan on burning through your remaining stones as well?"
The Queen's expression darkened instantly, a veil of shadows crossing her face.
"I have plenty of methods left!" she hissed.
With a violent sweep of her hand, the heavy velvet curtains drew themselves shut, completely obscuring the mirror—as if simply blocking her sight could silence the presence within.
Yet, the Mirror Queen's voice still drifted through the fabric, haunting and ethereal.
"Heh... by all means, keep trying."
"Try again, and fail again. Keep throwing yourself against the walls of fate until you finally realize—fate is not something you have the power to change."
The Queen offered no further reply. She turned and stormed out of the room, locking the door behind her with a heavy, final click.
Her footsteps echoed down the long, cold corridor.
One step.
Another.
She finally emerged into the silent, midnight air of the castle gardens.
Night draped itself over the courtyard.
The silver moonlight filtered down, bathing the garden in a stillness that felt less like peace and more like an omen. The Queen raised her hand and gave a sharp, clinical snap of her fingers.
Snap.
In the following heartbeat—the shadows began to move.
From the thickets, the tangled branches, the eaves of the roof, and the high stone walls, countless creatures emerged. Squirrels, stray cats, hounds, ravens, and wild hares...
Predators and prey stood side-by-side, their natural instincts suppressed by a singular, suffocating authority. They gathered before the Queen, motionless, waiting for their command.
The Queen swept her gaze over the menagerie, her eyes as cold as the lunar light.
"Find Lunethia for me."
A squirrel twitched its tail nervously, its small body trembling in what seemed like a silent protest. The Queen let out a short, mirthless laugh.
"I don't care what you think," she said, her voice dropping into a dangerous register. "You all know the cost of defiance. If you value your lives, find her."
A black cat arched its back, letting out a low, guttural hiss as it unsheathed its claws to scrape at the stone floor. The Queen watched it for a moment, seemingly understanding its unspoken query.
She shook her head slowly. "Rest assured. You are only required to report her location. You are not expected to fight. I have no intention of expending the energy to transmute all of you into magic constructs."
A large hound let out a single, sharp bark.
Woof!
The Queen cut a glance toward it. "Do not worry. As for the fighting... I will arrange for something far more wicked, far more terrifying, to handle that."
Her voice turned to ice. "You are to find her and notify me. That is all."
A brief, heavy silence followed. The animals looked at one another, engaged in a wordless exchange of shared terror. A moment later, they turned as one and vanished into the darkness of the night.
Silence reclaimed the garden. The Queen tilted her head back, looking up at the radiant moon. The pale light clung to her skin like a shroud.
She let out a long, weary sigh.
"After tonight... only fourteen days remain."
Meanwhile.
Back in the village deep within the forest, Rhine and the others had finally finalized their next move.
Karl sketched a rudimentary map onto the dirt floor, pointing to several key markers along the path.
"From our current position, it will take roughly two days to reach Starfall Cliff. We will lay low there for nine days. After that, we'll need another two days to make our final push toward the Capital."
He looked up, meeting the eyes of his companions. "This timeline ensures our arrival coincides exactly with the Winter Moon Festival. Once we expose the Fake Queen's identity during the ceremony, the interior of the Capital should descend into chaos within half a day."
Owen arched an eyebrow. "And if things don't go that smoothly?"
Karl offered a thin, wry smile. "It won't matter. As long as the regular army doesn't intervene, those power-hungry opportunists within the walls... it'll take two days at most before the Capital spirals into total, irrecoverable disorder."
Rhine nodded slowly, his expression grim. "If that's the plan, we still need a messenger to contact the Resistance in the South. They need to mobilize during that same window."
"At the very least," Rhine continued, "they need to pin down the border legions. We can't have them marching back to reinforce the Capital the moment the first riot breaks out."
A heavy silence fell over the group. Karl considered the map for a long moment before finally letting out a weary sigh.
"I'll head south myself."
Gareth blinked in surprise. "Your Highness? Why not just send Rena? It would be safer."
Karl shook his head firmly. "We can't rely on Gerald for a solo mission, and Rhine needs you here, Gareth."
He looked directly at the alchemist. "Your constitution is hypersensitive to mana. If a witch or a magic creature gets anywhere near the group, you're our early warning system. That's too vital to lose."
He then turned his gaze toward the others. "Owen is too reckless; I don't trust him to navigate a diplomatic mission alone. Milia lacks the temperament for high-stakes negotiation. As for the Boss—"
Karl allowed a small, knowing smile to touch his lips. "His flame is our only true deterrent against those magic beasts. He has to stay with Lunethia."
Karl paused, his gaze shifting toward Rena.
"As for Rena..." He shot a meaningful glance at Rhine, his tone laced with subtext. "We all know the Boss's temperament. And since we need to look after Thea's well-being, Rena is the most qualified person to stay behind and keep the peace."
Rhine immediately shot him a glare. "What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"
Rena, however, couldn't help but let out a playful laugh. She reached over and patted Rhine on the head as if he were a disgruntled hound.
"Alright, alright. Even without that reason, I would have chosen to stay anyway." She turned to Milia and Lunethia with a bright smile. "Besides, we can't have you two girls staying at a place like Starfall Cliff all by yourselves."
Lunethia tilted her head in confusion. "Why not?"
"Milia I'm not too worried about," Rena replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "But you're a young woman—" She gestured to the group surrounding them. "—and these are a bunch of foul-smelling men. Aren't you afraid?"
Lunethia looked even more bewildered. "Why should I be afraid? Would they hurt me?"
Rena froze for a second, then slapped her palm against her forehead. "And that is exactly the problem..." she sighed, sounding defeated. "You really are far too innocent."
Gareth suddenly slammed his hand onto the table. "Rena! How could you lump me in with that lot!?" He pointed at himself, his voice rising in agitation. "You know full well how I feel about Milia, and how I—"
He cut himself off mid-sentence, realizing he had just said far too much. Gareth's face turned a deep, burning shade of crimson.
"Er... anyway! You know what I mean!"
Milia's face flushed a faint pink as well. She quickly looked away, pretending to be intensely focused on smoothing out the hem of her clothes.
Rhine, meanwhile, was gritting his teeth in pure irritation. "Rena. Do you honestly think I'm that kind of man!?"
Rena shrugged, offering an innocent, cat-like grin. "I didn't say anything specific. I just said you're all a bunch of smelly, crude men." She pointed a finger at the row of them. "Every one of you has a questionable mind. You should try learning from Thea—look how pure she is."
Karl couldn't hold back a laugh.
"Alright, alright—all jokes aside." He stood up, his expression smoothing into one of professional resolve. "Once I reach the South and coordinate with the Resistance, I'll make my way back as quickly as possible."
He turned to Rhine, his voice teasing but with a lingering edge of caution. "Boss, try to keep that temper of yours in check while I'm gone. I'd hate to come back only to find... that you've accidentally reduced Thea to a pile of ash."
Rhine waved him off with an impatient growl. "Yeah, yeah, I get it! You think I can't tell the difference between a target and an ally? Do I really look like the type of man who just goes around setting people on fire?"
The room erupted into laughter, the tension finally breaking.
With the meeting concluded, the group dispersed to their respective quarters to begin packing. As night settled over the forest, the first snowflake drifted silently from the heavens. Then a second. Then a third.
By the time dawn broke, the entire village had been blanketed in a pristine coat of white.
Karl finished securing his gear and swung himself into the saddle. He took one last look at the small, quiet village, watching the snow settle peacefully on the rooftops and fences.
"Snow..." he murmured to himself. "It shouldn't have reached the South yet."
With a sharp tug on the reins, he turned his mount toward the southern horizon. A moment later, the rhythm of galloping hooves filled the air, and Karl's silhouette was soon swallowed by the vast, white expanse of the plains.
At the village entrance, Rhine stood before the gathered locals, his face a mask of stern authority.
"Listen up!" he barked, his voice cutting through the cold morning air. "If anything happens—if the wind so much as smells wrong—you abandon this village immediately!"
His tone left no room for argument. "Your lives are the priority! Do not even think about staying to fight!"
He pointed toward the distant horizon. "On the day of the Winter Moon Festival, we rendezvous at the Capital as planned. Do you hear me?"
He paused, his eyes narrowing as he added a vicious postscript:
"If any of you fail to show up... or if you're stupid enough to get yourselves killed... I swear... I'll personally burn you to a crisp!"
The villagers froze for a heartbeat, stunned by the sheer absurdity of the threat. Then, one by one, they began to chuckle. They knew Rhine well enough to know that was his version of a blessing.
Lunethia watched the hot-tempered youth with wide eyes, then leaned in to whisper to Rena.
"Does he always... talk like that?"
Rena gave a weary, knowing smile. "Ever since the dawn of the Lunar Era... he's been exactly like this."
Lunethia sensed a deeper meaning hidden in those words and opened her mouth to press further. However, Rhine was already stomping toward them, forcing her to swallow her question for the time being.
Rhine stopped in front of her and carelessly tossed a teal cloak in her direction.
"Put it on," he grunted.
He turned and walked away immediately, acting as if the entire interaction wasn't worth a second of his breath.
Lunethia blinked, catching the heavy fabric. She unfurled it, looking at the sturdy material. "What is this?"
Rena let out a proud chuckle. "That is the signature gear of the 'Goblin Miners.'"
She gestured to the similar cloaks worn by the rest of the group. "Whenever we're out on an operation, we wear these. Usually, just seeing this cloak is enough to keep people from looking for trouble. Bandits, thugs, and low-lifes tend to vanish the moment we appear."
She paused, a smirk playing on her lips. "Even the Royal Army prefers to stay out of our way most of the time."
Lunethia looked even more perplexed. "But didn't you say... you were thieves? Why would the army avoid you?"
Rena shrugged nonchalantly. "That's because, over the years, we've carved out our reputation through blood."
Her tone was casual, yet it carried a trace of bitter resignation. "Those soldiers... they're all looking out for their own skin. When they run into a 'hard bone' like us, nobody wants to be the first one to try and crack it. They'd much rather—"
She glanced toward the horizon. "—just sit back and hope that some other poor squad is the one to run into us instead."
Lunethia fell silent for a long moment, her eyes downcast.
"I'm sorry..." she whispered. "Once I find my mother, I'll make sure she helps all of you. That way, you won't have to be treated like outlaws anymore."
She looked up, her gaze meeting Rena's with shimmering sincerity. "I truly believe that all of you are good people."
Rena blinked, momentarily taken aback by the girl's pure, unshakeable faith. Then, a soft smile tugged at her lips.
"It's alright. If our plan actually succeeds—" Rena paused, a hint of longing in her voice. "—we never intended to stay 'Goblin Miners' forever anyway."
Lunethia hesitated, then spoke up again. "Um... may I ask one more thing? Why that name? Why 'Goblin Miners'?"
Rena couldn't hold back a laugh. "The story behind that name is actually quite ridiculous, if you think about it."
She pointed to the teal-green cloaks worn by the group. "Years ago, we used to wear these cloaks to ambush soldiers and nobles passing through the forests. One time, a terrified soldier started screaming at us, calling us 'Goblins' because we were always hiding in the shadows, striking from the dark."
She shrugged. "The Boss heard it, and instead of being insulted, he was actually thrilled. He said it proved that people were finally starting to fear us."
Rena cleared her throat, her face shifting into a perfect, deadpan imitation of Karl's overly serious scholarly tone.
"'Since that is the case,'" she mimicked, "'we might as well adopt it as our formal title. Our work never sees the light of day anyway—we might as well be digging in a cave. Let us be called The Goblin Miners.'"
As soon as she finished the impression, Rena burst into a fit of genuine, lighthearted laughter.
Owen hoisted Gerald onto the back of a horse, carefully using several lengths of rope to lash him securely into the saddle. Rhine stood nearby, his voice echoing with his usual impatience.
"The old man is strapped in! Are the rest of you ready or not?"
Just then, a magnificent white stallion trotted slowly toward the group. Lunethia noticed the beast and offered a small, gentle smile. She reached out, her fingers grazing its muzzle with a feather-light touch.
The stallion's body gave a slight, involuntary tremor, yet it didn't pull away.
Rena's eyes nearly tripled in size. "No way!" she cried, pointing at the horse in disbelief. "Rhine's horse actually let you touch him!?"
Startled by the outburst, Lunethia reflexively yanked her hand back. "I... was I not supposed to touch him?"
Rena waved her hands frantically. "No, no! It's not that!" She stared at the stallion as if seeing it for the first time. "Storm has a temper exactly like Rhine's—he's a total menace. Aside from Rhine, practically no one can get within three feet of him without getting bitten or kicked."
Lunethia looked back at the white horse and smiled softly. She reached out again, smoothing down its mane with a tender rhythm.
"He's actually very gentle," she whispered. "He's just... a little bit afraid, that's all."
By now, Rhine had stomped over. He glanced at his horse, then at Lunethia, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register.
"Can you ride?"
Lunethia shook her head quickly. "No... I've never learned."
Rhine clicked his tongue and let out a short, dismissive huff. In one fluid, athletic motion, he vaulted into the saddle. Once settled, he extended a calloused hand toward her.
"Get up here. I'll teach you."
Lunethia froze, hesitating for a long beat before slowly placing her hand in his. Rhine gripped her firmly and pulled, hoisting her up in one powerful tug. She stumbled slightly as she landed on the saddle directly in front of him.
"Don't get the wrong idea," Rhine growled, his tone as haughty as ever. "Storm has never tolerated anyone else's presence. Since he's inexplicably decided to let you near him, we might as well use the opportunity to get him used to the existence of other humans."
Snort—!
Storm suddenly tossed his head, letting out a low, vibrating whinny. It sounded remarkably like a protest against Rhine's dismissive words.
Lunethia couldn't suppress a giggle. She leaned forward, pressing close to the stallion's powerful neck, and whispered softly into its ear.
"Storm... so that's your name."
She stroked his mane with a rhythmic, soothing motion. "Don't you worry. I'll try my best to get along with him, too."
Rhine narrowed his eyes, peering at her from behind. His voice was thick with skepticism. "Don't tell me... you can actually communicate with horses, too?"
Lunethia blinked innocent eyes at him before a sudden, mischievous glint sparkled in her gaze.
"Storm says..." she paused, her smile turning playful. "...that he isn't telling you."
Rhine's face darkened instantly. "Tch. As if I'd believe a word of that."
The words had barely left his mouth when he dug his heels into the stallion's flanks. Storm reared up on his hind legs, let out a defiant cry, and surged forward into the snow.
The rest of the group didn't hesitate, spurring their own mounts to follow. The rhythmic thunder of hooves echoed across the frozen landscape, muffled only by the falling white.
Within the swirling blizzard, the silhouettes of the seven riders slowly faded.
Seven people. Six horses.
They vanished into the snowy night, beginning their desperate trek toward Starfall Cliff.