The forest was denser than it had appeared from afar.
Orlando pushed aside a branch hanging in front of his face, and a dried twig snapped under his foot with a crisp sound.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the canopy, casting irregular patches of light on the ground that swayed with the wind.
He had been walking for over an hour, and the iron short sword at his waist tapped against his thigh with each step—
“What’s wrong, little lost one.”
The God of Love’s voice rang from inside his head.
“Next time, give a heads-up before speaking, okay?”
Orlando swallowed the curse words that had reached his lips. He kept walking.
After about another hour, his steps grew heavy.
His stomach was empty—
The three plates of potato stew, two plates of boiled vegetables, and five slices of black bread he’d had at breakfast felt as if something had burned them up inside him.
His fingertips started to go numb, his knees felt weak.
He grabbed hold of a nearby tree trunk.
The bark was rough, digging into his palm.
His breathing grew heavier.
“Don’t push yourself, okay~.”
The God of Love’s voice rang out again.
It was a little softer than before, like a fruit candy sinking slowly to the bottom of honey water.
‘You… pervert lolicon.’
Orlando gritted his teeth.
A silver light flashed at the edge of his vision, but he forced it back down.
The edges of his field of view were already starting to bleach white; the green of the leaves was fading, as if being covered by a layer of silver gauze.
Orlando didn’t want to talk to her anymore.
He closed his eyes and focused his attention on the dragon bloodline.
The pot of boiling water, the steam pushing the lid with a bang bang sound.
He pressed down on the lid with his hand, forcing it down.
Sweat seeped from his forehead, trickled down his cheek, and dripped onto the moss beside the tree roots.
‘That little Olivia… always coming out at the wrong time…’
He suppressed it.
The ruins appeared in the middle of a clearing.
Orlando stopped.
The thing was much larger than he had imagined.
Not the “it’s a building” kind of large, but the “it shouldn’t be here” kind of large.
Huge stone pillars jutted out from the ground at an angle, like the broken ribs of some giant creature.
The surfaces of the pillars were covered in patterns—
Something more ancient, something he had never seen before.
The lines spiraled up from the base, converging at the top into the shape of an eye.
He stood beneath one of the pillars and looked up.
The top of the pillar disappeared into the canopy, hidden from view.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches and leaves, falling onto the pupil of that stone eye.
Stone doesn’t watch people, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the eye was watching him.
He walked around the pillar twice.
The patterns spiraled from the base to the top; each side had different lines, but they all converged into eyes.
Each eye looked in a different direction.
He tried pushing the pillar—
It didn’t budge.
He knocked on it with the hilt of his short sword—
A dull sound.
Solid all the way through.
‘What the hell is this thing?’
‘Could Victoria have scammed him?’
‘Is this considered telecom fraud or something?’
‘(Please download the National Anti-Fraud Center app)’
He sat down at the base of the pillar.
The iron short sword lay across his knees, the blade reflecting the dappled light from the canopy above.
‘Now what.’
Victoria had given him the clue “North of the Firmament,” and he’d found the ruins.
But how to get inside, what was inside, why Victoria had sent him—
He had no idea about any of it.
‘He couldn’t just fall asleep here, could he?’
Von Brunswick was in the city, the wanted posters were still pasted on the city gates, and the Urske were still searching for the ruins.
If he fell asleep and turned into Olivia, here in the wilderness, barefoot, wearing an oversized shirt, he wouldn’t even know if some wild animal carried him off.
He gripped the short sword a little tighter.
Outside the city.
Von Brunswick rode on horseback, the hooves crunching over gravel.
A small squad followed behind him—
The Urske diplomat, two Urske soldiers, and a few private soldiers he’d brought from the Empire.
Gray eyes behind goggles scanned the bushes on either side of the road.
“Lord Brunswick.”
The diplomat’s voice came from beneath his hat brim.
“Are you certain Orlando Dellfort will appear in this direction?”
“He can’t leave the city.”
Von didn’t turn around.
“The city gates are guarded by military police. If he’s already left the city, he can only go outside the walls. This forest is the nearest hiding spot from Rantesti City.”
He wasn’t worried about Orlando running far.
A wanted traitor, with no identity, no backing, no money.
How long could he hide outside the city?
The diplomat didn’t reply.
Hooves crunched over gravel; the gaze behind the goggles swept over a mark on a tree trunk where someone had leaned—
A patch of moss had been scraped off, the break fresh.
Von’s fingers holding the reins tightened slightly.
What he hadn’t told the diplomat was that allowing foreign troops into Eldron’s territory to conduct a search without permission was a serious crime.
Imperial law was written clearly—
Without approval from the Emperor or the Imperial Council, no foreign armed personnel were allowed to carry out military operations on Eldron’s soil.
Offenders were guilty of treason, the same as the traitor.
But he didn’t care about that.
Compared to the shame of being exposed by Orlando for abandoning his comrades two years ago, compared to losing the Brunswick family’s honor, compared to losing his engagement to Elenora—
What was the crime of treason?
A noble’s face weighed more than the law, at least in his heart.
The hooves continued forward.
The forest grew thicker.