Unlike the oppressive domain of the Sacred Capital, Valoria bustled with a vibrant, chaotic energy.
Merchants of various races called out prices for spices, magical artifacts, and eastern fabrics along avenues of white stone.
Guard towers belonging to the Merchant League watched over the horizon, but no Church banners or statues of the Creator stood in the plazas.
Haruto and Aoi slipped through the city walls by blending into a grain merchants’ caravan.
Passing through the entrance checkpoints was strangely effortless: without the Vatican’s scanning crystals to measure System levels, the local guards only demanded a toll of two bronze coins.
“It’s weird not having anyone trying to run a spear through us,” Aoi remarked softly, eying the street food stalls wafting scents of roasted meat and sweet spices into the air.
“Don’t drop your guard,” Haruto warned, though his posture looked far more relaxed than usual.
“The Merchant League tolerates anyone as long as they don’t disrupt trade, but that means this place is crawling with spies from every faction.
Including Vatican informants.” They secured a room at The Iron Stag, a three-story inn tucked away from the main commercial district.
Haruto paid for a private room for an entire week using one of the Inquisition’s gold coins, which bought them absolute discretion and a steady supply of hot water.
Once the door was locked tight with a runic bolt, their accumulated exhaustion seemed to hit Aoi all at once.
She unbuckled her light armor, leaned her greatsword in a corner, and collapsed faceup onto the double bed.
“I feel like if I stay still for ten seconds, I’m going to turn to stone,” she murmured into the pillow.
Haruto set his pack on the wooden table and sat on the edge of the mattress.
He watched her with a blend of warmth and quiet focus.
“The first stage, Disconnection, completely cleared our mana channels,” he said, reaching out to touch Aoi’s cheek gently.
“But to reach Primordial Resonance, we need to synchronize our flows.
My analytical magic and your soul energy shouldn’t just operate as combination attacks—they need to function as a single circuit.” Aoi turned toward him, resting her face in his palm and closing her eyes at his touch.
“Synchronize our flows?” she asked softly.
“How do we do that?” “The manuscript calls it a Dual Circuit Link,” Haruto explained, leaning in closer.
“It requires us to meditate together, allowing my blue mana to enter your body to stabilize your aura, while you project your crimson energy into me to reinforce my physical defense.
A direct fusion.” Aoi opened her eyes and locked her gaze onto his.
A small, playful smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
“Sounds like a very elaborate excuse from an analyst just to get closer to me.” Haruto let out a genuine smile, a rare break from his usual solemn demeanor.
“Maybe it is.
But it’s also the only way we survive when the Vatican sends the Cardinals.” Aoi sat up slowly, positioning herself right in front of him.
She took both of his hands, lacing her fingers through his.
Haruto’s bluish runic lines and Aoi’s crimson marks began to pulse in unison, radiating a gentle, soothing light that filled the room.
“Alright,” Aoi said, closing the distance until her breath brushed against his lips.
“Lead the way, Haruto.”