Ti slipped by, and two days had already passed. During those calm and easy days, Maria spent most of her ti staying close by her younger sister’s side.
The tender affection that overflowed from her was like honey, drowning Felia completely.
If Maria of Seth was like a crimson rose veiled in frost, then all the warmth left in her cold life after the tragedy had been poured into her only remaining kin. In so ways, Maria loved Felia more than herself, and the womanizing Gehrman seed to have his own complaints about that.
He had witnessed many tragedies.
Those who survived often carried so distorted quality that set them apart from ordinary people. Though the aura of deathlike despair had already faded from Maria, there still remained a faint trace of self-destruction clinging to her.
Too bad Fractured didn’t have a psychologist profession yet.
During these two days, Gehrman also gave his beautiful pupil so casual guidance in dual-wielding. The old hunter, with his wealth of killing experience, was surprised to discover Maria’s exceptional gift in wielding two blades. Unlike most people, who required years of training to coordinate both hands without conflict, Maria could naturally and smoothly weave the arcs and trajectories of dual slashes. Arrogant as always, Gehrman admitted that when he was her age, without special training, he could never have achieved such dexterity.
The longsword struck head-on, fast and sharp.
The shortsword worked in close quarters, cunning and lethal.
As he taught her firsthand, Gehrman experienced the treachery of her reverse-grip shortsword. Within the close range of combat, it slipped out of blind spots, and more than once its sudden strikes nearly gave him a heart attack.
“Tis have changed, Maria!”
After several successful draws of his firearm, jamming them against her openings in defense, Gehrman looked proudly at his pupil conceding defeat. Honestly, he was confident in his marksmanship, two guns were always like that.
Maria slid her blades back into their scabbards and looked at him with solemn eyes.
“Before I return, I’m entrusting Felia to you.” He was, after all, the only one in this world she could truly trust. Other than Gehrman, Maria would never leave her sister in anyone’s care.
“Heading out?” Twirling his peculiar firearm back into place, Gehrman understood his pupil was departing. And once again, he’d have to put up with looking after that undergrown sprout. A little boring, perhaps, but teasing the pouty bean-sprout Felia would at least keep him entertained.
“Mm… I’ll be leaving shortly. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll be back in a few days.” Tightening the leather gear at her waist and limbs after her warm-up exercises, a faint blush touched Maria’s pale face. The knightly, cold-edged aura she carried made it dangerously easy for others to feel a desire to conquer her.
“Oh, and Gehrman…” Maria’s tone suddenly grew serious and dangerous. “If I co back and find you’ve laid a hand on Felia, you know I won’t forgive you.”
“Do you misunderstand my taste?”
Gehrman rubbed his chin with disdain. That underdeveloped sprout was nowhere near as pretty as his pupil. He’d rather risk being skewered through the chest to flirt with the dignified, proper Maria than waste ti bickering with Felia.
Seeing no hint of guilt or lust in him, Maria smiled in satisfaction, lifted her skirts in a courteous bow, and turned to leave.
………………
Arthur and Liline had already set off ahead of her. Through their contacts, they inford Maria of the rendezvous point. According to the plan, their party would et in a village within Harvest Territory of Southwind Province, near the Razor Mountains. After resupplying and regrouping, they would head into the mountain range.
Razor Mountains.
Stretching steep and unbroken, vast portions of their forested terrain remained unexplored and dangerous. Spanning nearly five thousand kiloters across, the range cut across the continent like a sharpened razor, clearly dividing the southern lands from the north.
Each year, the mighty Frost Currents swept down from the Northlands, only to be stopped short by the northern face of the Razor Mountains, creating magnificent northern landscapes.
Law and order across the continent was still relatively good.
Within a noble lord’s domain, banditry was rare. Those who dared waylay travelers were often nothing more than the lord’s private soldiers in disguise, or puppets he fostered. Nobles often dirtied their hands, but to avoid scrutiny from the Noble Council or judgnt from wandering transcendents, they sought ways to keep their filth hidden. Thus, where there was policy above, there was counterasure below.
Traveling north by carriage into Harvest Territory, Maria saw priests of the Steam Church directing laborers to lay railways, string telegraph lines, and build water-powered machinery along rivers.
The sight of such feverish construction compelled her to linger her gaze.
This was still a small scene.
Once Open Beta began, the Steam Church’s power would expand explosively. Steam fanatics, together with players unwilling to endure backward ignorance, would launch massive waves of industrialization. That spectacle had once left Maria shaken. In her past life, to fund her gaming, she too had worked odd jobs for a ti.
Now recalling it…
Working is impossible. There’s no way I’d ever work in this life. Better to stay holed up in the Astral Clocktower, waiting for juniors to bring food.
Watching the scenery slide past outside the carriage window, Maria felt an unexpected lift of mood at her playful thought. A soft curve touched her lips; indeed, when unhappy, travel could heal better than any cure.
She soon rested her head, eyelashes trembling like combs, drifting off as the carriage carried her toward her destination.
anwhile…
On another road also heading into Harvest Territory, a modified steam locomotive thundered down fresh tracks. Beneath tarpaulins, large machines were secured on its flatbeds. Soldiers on duty lowered their rifles and swept wary eyes around.
They were the ruthless executioners of the Military Intelligence Departnt, acting on the orders of the Noble Council. Their mission: to probe the Sun God faction of the Radiant Church, a dragon in clear decline.
And the banished, forbidden Lord of Cinder was their target.
The movents of the Sun God’s Church could never be hidden from noble eyes. Unaware of Chaos, they still burned with curiosity, what unusual cause had driven the church’s extraordinary actions?
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