Lya…
— Em…
Lya…
— EMILYA!
Melvis shouted.
Emilya slowly opened her eyes.
She was lying on the ground, not far from the Black Forest, on the opposite side from where Lucius and the witch had fought.
She tried to keep her eyes open, but quickly passed out, overwhelmed by her lack of mana.
Melvis took her into her arms and tried to heal her wound, but it was already beginning to close on its own, just like the rest of her injuries.
The servant reached a fairly large village, built on land that had once been cleared and destroyed by the witch.
Using the last of Emilya’s savings, she rented a room at an inn, although their purse would only allow them to stay there for a week.
Melvis took great care of Emilya while the latter remained in a deep sleep.
She stayed by her bedside throughout the two days Emilya remained unconscious.
By the end of the second night, all of her physical wounds had disappeared.
The following morning, the young mage calmly woke up.
— What happened?
Emilya asked.
— You fought the witch in the forest, and you died, Melvis replied.
Suddenly, the memory of her battle came rushing back, triggering a violent headache.
However, more than her defeat against the witch, what made her furious was the last scene she had witnessed before closing her eyes: Lucius turning his back on her.
Melvis told her in detail what had happened after she had passed out.
— So the witch let you go because she thought I was strong, even though I lost that fight…
She was better than me, I admit it.
Even though I used one of my trump cards, I still ended up losing my life, she said with a bitter smile.
But I won’t let Lucius get away with this so easily, she added, furious.
— Speaking of which, Miss…
your card is missing as well, Melvis announced worriedly.
— What?
Emilya exclaimed in shock.
After leaving the forest, Melvis had searched through Emilya’s bag for something to treat her wounds, and that was when she noticed that the card was missing.
She could not understand when Lucius had managed to steal it from her.
Upon hearing this, Emilya abruptly sat up in bed, but a violent bout of dizziness nearly caused her to fall.
Melvis, who was standing nearby, caught her and helped her sit back down.
— You haven’t fully recovered yet, Miss, the servant said worriedly.
Emilya sighed.
She was exhausted by the whole situation and wondered why fate seemed to be constantly working against her.
Still weak, all she could do was think about what would happen next.
Melvis went to sleep in the bed beside hers, but Emilya remained awake for a long time.
She went over every detail of their journey again and again, trying to understand which clues she had missed, and especially when he had taken the card from her.
Before entering the forest, she had still possessed it, and she had never let go of her bag.
So when?
It must have been when her attention had been diverted…
During the witch’s surprise attack?
It suddenly clicked.
The pieces of the puzzle began falling into place in her mind: how did he know exactly where the flowers were?
Where had the strange resemblance between the witch’s attacks and his training with the apples come from?
Why did he have all that precise information?
The more she thought about it, the more questions she had, and the less his story made sense.
If he could fight with such mastery, why would he need to enroll in a warrior academy?
And those flowers…
considering the circumstances, they didn’t seem to have been meant for her.
Were they for him?
And if so, why?
All these unanswered questions kept her awake until dawn.
Over the following days, Emilya meditated to restore her mana and speed up her recovery.
Melvis, meanwhile, trained.
Their confrontation with the witch had taught them an essential lesson: despite having a good strategy, their attacks remained too basic and lacked power.
Emilya needed to become more precise when casting her spells, while Melvis needed to toughen up, become more agile, and put more strength into her strikes.
Once her mistress’s magical reserves had been restored, Melvis trained her in close-quarters combat.
Emilya possessed plenty of power, but lacked technique and combat awareness in close-range fights.
They did their best to correct their weaknesses during Emilya’s recovery.
A week later, all of her wounds had disappeared, except for a scar that remained etched across her chest, as if to remind her of her duel with the witch.
“Another mark on my skin…
But this one, I won’t forget.
Nor will I forget the one responsible for it,” she thought with determination.
— All right, let’s go find Lucius.
It’s time for me to get my card back, she declared.
— But how are we going to do that?
He went in the opposite direction.
If the witch didn’t kill him, Melvis pointed out.
Emilya then pulled a bracelet from the inner pocket of her cloak.
Intrigued, Melvis asked her what it was.
Emilya explained that when they had left Tezora, she had bought these matching bracelets at the market and given one to Lucius.
He had accepted it, and with a little luck, the object would allow them to track him, especially since he had been unaware of its magical function when she gave it to him.
Once again, Melvis praised Emilya’s ingenuity.
They then went to buy supplies, but their meager resources only allowed them to purchase enough food to last three days.
— I really need to find a job, Emilya muttered, disheartened.
— I’m sorry.
I used your last savings to pay for the inn room, Melvis whispered, lowering her head.
— Don’t worry.
I’m not angry with you.
If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have been able to rest comfortably or recover all my magic, Emilya reassured her.
Once they had finished shopping, Emilya and Melvis made their way to the outskirts of the city.
Emilya slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and recited the activation spell.
The artifact began to emit a glow that slowly transformed into a slightly transparent white thread.
— Come on, Melvis.
We’re going to find that thief and make him pay for what he did to us, Emilya declared, her eyes filled with anger.
— Yes!
the servant replied determinedly.
They set off, following the trail indicated by the magical thread.
The path led them back toward the Black Forest for a while, but the thread veered around the sinister area.
Lucius had indeed managed to escape the witch.
They walked at a steady pace, only stopping to rest when absolutely necessary.
Finally, after three days of pursuit, they discovered the village where Lucius was hiding.
The moment Emilya caught sight of him, she immediately launched an attack, firing balls of flame and ice spears that, upon reaching their target, transformed into massive blocks meant to imprison him.
She closed the distance while unleashing one attack after another, catching him completely off guard.
When their eyes finally met, Emilya’s gaze reflected nothing but hatred and contempt, while Lucius’s expression showed a mixture of shock and relief.
But the young man quickly had to pull himself together and raise his guard, because Emilya had no intention of going easy on him.
She attacked him relentlessly while he tried to talk to her.
Her attacks were becoming increasingly precise, and weakened by his injuries, Lucius knew he would not be able to dodge forever.
On top of fearing Emilya’s magic, he was also wary of Melvis, who could be formidable in situations like this.
Strangely, however, the servant had remained completely motionless since the beginning of the assault.
As Emilya bombarded him with various spells, he finally decided to go on the offensive.
Realizing that he was finally taking the fight seriously, the mage adapted her strategy: she prepared her most powerful spells while casting faster ones to distract him and keep him at a distance.
Combining these two actions required tremendous concentration—a feat that had been impossible against the witch, who sent thorns at her every second.
But since Lucius fought exclusively in close combat, a strong defense allowed her to use this method.
Emilya never let up, and Lucius was quickly overwhelmed.
He realized that the young girl clearly should not be underestimated: she possessed far more combat experience than she let on.
With a sudden leap, he charged toward her to catch her off guard, but she thwarted his attack by raising a magical shield that completely protected her.
He stepped back and began circling her, searching for a weakness in her defenses.
Seeing no obvious solution, he drew his sword for the first time since the beginning of the fight.
He charged straight at her again, stopped right in front of her, and struck diagonally.
The shield shattered.
Emilya did not immediately understand what had just happened, but she had no time to think: she had to prepare her next spell.
It was already too late.
Lucius lunged at her and grabbed her staff, throwing it away.
Emilya tried to punch him.
He allowed her to hit him, and the more he advanced, the further she retreated.
She tried to throw another punch, but he blocked her fist, seized both of her wrists, and pinned her to the ground, sitting on top of her to restrain her movements.
— Stop, Melvis!
she shouted at the servant.
She was standing directly behind him, ready to neutralize him once and for all.
— Are you calm enough now for us to talk?
Lucius asked, breathless.
— What could you possibly have to tell me that’s so important?
Do you want to tell me that ridiculous story about wanting to become a warrior, or explain why you used me as bait to retrieve the Moon Flowers?
— You really are very intelligent.
I can’t lie to you anymore.
You’re right: I’m not trying to become a warrior, and the Moon Flowers were indeed meant for my own use.
But I had a good reason for doing what I did, Lucius admitted.
— A good reason?
And what possible good reason could justify…
— My family was kidnapped by a being I can’t defeat on my own.
Emilya stared straight into his eyes.
She saw such distress and sincerity in them that she realized that, this time, he wasn’t lying.