The Red Lamp of Lacorinto
"Who goes there?"
A voice called out from atop the castle wall.
It was evening, the sun already set, and darkness settling in.
Roberta halted her horse before the tightly shut gates, then raised her head toward the voice above.
A soldier peeked out between the battlements, holding out a torch to inspect the group below.
"You don't even recognize your lord?!"
One of the Count of Ruogallan's attendants shouted angrily.
Startled by the sudden outburst, the soldier dropped the torch. Though it fell to the ground, it did not go out—and its light revealed the faces of the group.
"…My lord?"
Recognizing the Count, the soldier's voice shrank.
"Open the gate at once!"
The attendant raised his voice even further.
"J-just a moment, please!"
Soon, hurried noises echoed along the wall, and the gate opened.
At the front of the group, Ulrich glanced back at the Count of Ruogallan. The Count nodded and rode forward with his attendant.
As they passed through the gate, an older knight rushed over with several soldiers.
"Lord Gunnar! You are safe!"
The Count looked down at him and let out a faint chuckle.
"You weren't hoping I'd die, were you?"
There was clear humor in his tone.
"How could I ever think such a thing?"
"And Christian? Where is he?"
"He is on patrol. We've sent word—he should arrive shortly."
"I see."
As their conversation continued, the old knight's gaze shifted past the Count.
It met Roberta's.
She recognized him—he had been among the knights at the lord's residence before, standing behind Christian when they first arrived, wary of the inquisitor.
"And these people…?"
Then realization dawned on him, and his eyes widened.
"They are my benefactors. Thanks to them, I stand here now."
"You entered the swamp?"
When Ulrich's party had left Terbu, they had not revealed their destination.
It would only have invited unnecessary trouble. Traveling with the duke's son, a fairy, and an inquisitor was enough to draw attention. Naturally, the knight had assumed they simply left the Count's territory.
"Mm. There is no need to worry anymore. The demonic realm has been resolved."
The knight's eyes widened further in disbelief.
But before he could ask more, someone approached from afar to greet them.
***
Afterward, the Count of Luogallan returned to his residence.
He informed Christian that the demonic realm within the Wandering Swamp had been eliminated.
Naturally, the truth was concealed.
The existence of the ancient fairy mausoleum and the seed of the World Tree was hidden, as was the fact that the tree had sprouted in a corrupted state and created the demonic realm.
Instead, they explained it as a sudden disturbance of mana within the swamp, resolved before it became severe.
It was a flimsy excuse—but it worked.
Beatrice supported the claim, and demonic realms often appeared and disappeared unpredictably. People simply accepted it as another such case.
**
After the matter was settled, Roberta stood on the balcony, holding a glass.
The lord's residence was built atop a hill, offering a full view of the city.
What had been a dim city when they arrived was now lit with countless lights.
Though only a short time had passed since the Count announced the good news, it had already spread throughout the city. People, unable to sleep, filled the streets.
"Sister."
Roberta slowly turned her head.
Vermelani stood at the balcony entrance.
"The night wind is cold. You should come inside."
Behind her, the brightly lit hall could be seen, filled with noise and celebration.
Though modest, the Count had hosted a banquet, and the mansion was lively as if it were daytime.
"It's fine. It's actually refreshing."
"I see."
Vermelani stepped beside her and rested her hands on the railing. Like Roberta, she gazed out over the night view.
Roberta studied her profile.
Young and beautiful, as expected of a fairy.
But how old was she?
Fairies aged slowly—her appearance gave no clue. Thinking back, she had never heard her age. She must have lived for an unimaginable length of time—perhaps over a thousand years, though Roberta could not be certain.
Had she stared too long?
Vermelani turned to look at her.
"Thank you for your help."
She bowed her head.
"Oh… I didn't really do anything."
Ulrich had done everything.
Roberta swallowed the words before they could escape.
"You protected that child."
Ah—that.
Roberta scratched her head awkwardly.
In the swamp, Vermelani had been at the front with Ulrich, leaving her unable to protect the young noble. Roberta had ended up guarding the duke's son, Elias.
"How is Lord Elias? I imagine he must be satisfied. He didn't complain, did he?"
Vermelani smiled softly.
"I believe he is satisfied. He still has the nature of a child, but he is intelligent. He understands that he has experienced something rare."
"That's a relief."
And it was true.
Where else would he experience something like that? If he still wasn't satisfied, he might need to hunt dragons on the Ice Peninsula to feel fulfilled.
"Then… will you be returning to your homeland with him now?"
Vermelani shook her head.
"No. We will remain here for a while."
"…Because of the World Tree?"
Roberta lowered her voice.
"Yes. Until someone from our main house arrives to take over, we must guard the swamp."
The dormant World Tree remained there.
Originally, the swamp had held both the ancient fairy mausoleum and the unsprouted World Tree, guarded by fairies.
But now, most of those guardians had disappeared.
Before leaving the ruined city, Ulrich's group had discovered some of the missing fairies' corpses.
"Do you have any idea who is responsible?"
The seed of the World Tree had not sprouted on its own.
Nor had it become corrupted naturally.
It had been given by the fairy god Ophilus long ago—yet it had never sprouted until now. And when it finally did, it immediately became corrupted and created a demonic realm.
Someone had clearly interfered.
"Most likely… the culprit is within our own lineage."
Vermelani answered in a low voice.
"…That would make sense."
Only the Erelbur lineage could handle the World Tree, so naturally the culprit had to be someone within the lineage. The questions of who and how still remained—but that was precisely why Ulrich had limited the authority over the World Tree to Vermelani's direct bloodline.
"We will catch them. I don't know their intentions, but what they did cannot be tolerated. In the name of our lineage, we will find them and make them pay."
Clenching her teeth, Vermelani spoke firmly.
Roberta replied that she hoped so and took a sip from her glass.
"Will you be leaving tomorrow, Sister?"
"Yes, in the morning. My route overlaps with Lady Beatrice's, so we'll be traveling together as far as the Bishopric of Langen."
At the mention of Langen, Vermelani frowned slightly.
"If you go there… you may meet Archbishop Giacomo."
Her tone was odd—clearly reluctant.
"Is there a problem?"
"Archbishop Giacomo supported Jokuster."
"What? An archbishop?"
Roberta blinked in disbelief.
The Church was practically the private organization of the Kormilius lineage, and an archbishop ranked just below the Pope. Though there were other titles in between, most had become nominal.
For such a figure to stand against Kormilius and side with Jokuster—
Even Archbishop Vinicio in Osnover had feared excommunication merely for attempting mediation. If an archbishop truly opposed the Kormilius lineage, it would not end with simple excommunication.
"I don't know if I should be telling you this, but… you should be careful. Archbishop Giacomo has a good reputation, but… he is a radical man."
If he had been gentle, he would never have sided with Jokuster.
Roberta let out a short breath and lifted her glass.
"I thought it was just a stop on the way to the Pantheon… but perhaps there's another reason."
"Since the inquisitor has set Langen as her destination, it won't be something trivial."
Following Vermelani's gaze, Roberta looked toward one side of the hall.
There sat Ulrich at the table, with Fritz and Beatrice on either side.
Ulrich simply ate quietly—but the two of them competed to refill his cup and plate whenever they emptied, as if in silent rivalry.
Roberta shook her head at the sight.
"Actually…"
She glanced at Vermelani.
"Until now, I had almost forgotten."
"You mean the World Tree?"
"Both the World Tree and the mausoleum."
"Why?"
Vermelani let out a long sigh and looked up at the night sky.
"The World Tree sprouting does not bring us glory. Guarding our ancestors' tombs does not bring us glory either."
"It only reminds us of fleeting hope and shattered past glory. The more we recall it, the more it contrasts with the present—and causes pain. That is what the World Tree and the mausoleum have been to us."
Long ago, there had been an age of the fairies—a glorious one.
But that glory could no longer be reclaimed.
It had become nothing more than history.
As someone living in the age of humans, Roberta could not fully understand that feeling.
"Do you still feel that way now?"
"Not much has changed… but at least now, I feel that we are not yet finished."
Vermelani looked toward Ulrich.
"Everything has its time. As he said, it is not yet time for the World Tree to bloom. So we will wait a little longer—just as the sisters of Kuiania did in the distant desert."
Kuiania—the forest cultivated by the fairy slaves freed by Ulrich under the name Selim.
Roberta thought back to the World Tree.
It had stood tall atop the ruins, first a bluish-green… then glowing white when the spirit appeared.
At the time, everything had been too urgent to take it in properly—but now, she realized how magnificent it must have been.
When would it awaken again?
"I won't be around to see that day."
Roberta gave a bitter smile.
"Perhaps not. But I will remember."
Vermelani said firmly, meeting her gaze.
"Fairies are a race that holds memories as long as time itself."
***
Riding across the plains, Fritz raised a branch of the spirit tree.
Light burst from its tip.
Even under the midday sun, it was so intense that one had to shut their eyes. Startled, his horse reared up, and Fritz hurriedly calmed it.
"You're getting better at handling mana every day."
Beatrice said with a smile as she rode beside Roberta.
"It seems that way."
Fritz had been improving steadily.
She had always thought him talented—but recently, his growth had been remarkable.
"It seems he gained enlightenment thanks to Ulrich."
Indeed, it had begun when Ulrich grasped Fritz's hand. After briefly experiencing a higher realm, his talent had blossomed.
"Enlightenment…"
Beatrice murmured to herself, her gaze fixed on Ulrich.
Ever since leaving the swamp—no, ever since their conversation by the stream—she had been like this.
What had they talked about?
Roberta was deeply curious, but there was no way to know unless Beatrice chose to speak.
After watching her expression for a moment, Roberta turned her horse toward the horizon.
***
The day after returning to the city of Terbu, Ulrich's group set out again.
Ulrich, Roberta, and Fritz were joined by Beatrice and two attendants, heading south.
They had agreed to travel together to a city within the bishopric—a place not far from the territory of the Count of Ruogallan.
After several days of riding, as the sun reached its peak in the sky, a city came into view beyond the horizon.
It was Oberlangen—
a city in the Bishopric of Langen.
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