Elizaveta was deep in thought, trying to figure out how to get inside Zbeta.
“Let’s disguise ourselves as Imperial soldiers. We only need to kidnap three of them,” suggested Gott.
But Gorio had a different idea.
“How about pretending to be prisoners captured and brought into the camp?”
“Isn’t that too risky?”
“Maybe, but it would look more natural.”
Elizaveta hesitated. Both plans carried heavy risks.
“Both of you,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll go in alone. You two wait outside.”
In her judgment, this was the best course of action.
As much as she hated to say it, the two of them weren’t skilled enough to move with her.
Gott shook his head.
“No! I’ll go with you, Lady Elizaveta. As a Briol, I can’t just stand by and watch.”
As president of the Briol clan association, Gott was furious about the foreigner internment camps the Empire had set up.
Clenching his fist, he declared his resolve.
“I’ll risk my life alongside you.”
Seeing Elizaveta’s discomfort, Gorio intervened.
“Gott, she’s right.”
“So you want me to just watch?”
“Ideals and reality are different. The two of us would only get in the way. Sometimes you have to accept that.”
“Ugh…”
Elizaveta admired Gorio’s clear-headedness. He had helped her a great deal on the way to Zbeta.
That practical streak was probably what made him the kingpin of the back alleys.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes…”
Gott sighed deeply, then nodded.
“Understood. It’s frustrating to be told we’d only be a hindrance…”
“There’s a time for everyone to be useful. This just isn’t yours yet.”
“Gorio…”
“When this war ends, you’ll have plenty to do. So take care of yourself. If you burn out from overexertion and aren’t there when you’re truly needed, that’s a sin in itself.”
“I understand.”
Gorio’s words carried the weight of a seasoned leader, moving hearts with his eloquence.
He turned to Elizaveta.
“But we should still help you as much as we can. Lady Elizaveta, may I share my thoughts?”
“Please do.”
“If you’re going in alone, it’ll be easier to disguise yourself as an Imperial soldier, like Gott said. So we’ll help lure some soldiers out for you.”
“Thank you.”
They searched for a suitable bait.
The soldiers guarding Zbeta weren’t ordinary. All had been enhanced by dark magic, making them as strong as seasoned knights.
But Elizaveta was one of the Ten Strong.
“Hey, you there! Stop right where you are!”
They spotted a group of three soldiers moving together a short distance from the wall.
Following their plan, Gorio and Gott limped toward them, supporting each other as if injured.
The soldiers drew their weapons, wary.
“Don’t move. Halt right there.”
“We’re citizens of the Empire. We were attacked by beasts while on the road…”
“Enough talk. Get down on the ground, hands behind your back.”
They were following standard Imperial procedure to capture unknown suspects.
“Down! Hands behind your back!”
“Ow, that hurts.”
“You little…”
“I’m injured, sorry…”
“Keep babbling and we’ll shoot.”
“Okay, okay!”
While the scuffle unfolded, Elizaveta suddenly appeared and swiftly killed all three soldiers.
She beheaded two instantly and snapped the neck of the third, careful not to stain the uniforms with blood.
The soldiers died silently.
“This one’s about my size.”
Thanks to her skill, the operation went smoothly. She quickly stripped the bodies and changed into the uniforms.
Pulling her helmet low, her face was completely hidden—she looked every bit an Imperial soldier.
“All set?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s time for the next step.”
Gott and Gorio nodded grimly.
Their final task was to draw attention so Elizaveta could slip inside the walls unnoticed.
“Good luck.”
They exchanged determined looks.
“Thank you.”
“Please be safe.”
Elizaveta parted from them.
She headed toward the weakest point in Zbeta’s defenses—the spot they had scouted earlier.
The camp, now a prison, radiated a sinister aura even at a glance.
“Phew…”
Hoping the two would succeed, Elizaveta hid in a corner.
Soon, a commotion broke out.
“Fire!”
“Fire!”
The two had done their job.
The sudden blaze sent Imperial soldiers shouting.
“Fire! Fire!”
But the cries sounded hollow, devoid of urgency—like a strange effect of the dark magic at work.
Listening to the hollow shouts, Elizaveta gave a bitter smile.
“The dark magic should never have been allowed in…”
Inside the walls, soldiers scrambled.
Realizing the moment had come, Elizaveta dashed out and quickly climbed the wall.
The soldier in the watchtower, facing the fire, momentarily lost sight of her.
She immediately joined the others, pretending to run toward the commotion.
The knights barked orders.
“What are you doing? Go put out the fire! Find the arsonist!”
“Yes, sir!”
Following the soldiers, Elizaveta spotted a gap.
Between two buildings stood a narrow path leading deeper inside.
Seizing the distraction, she slipped through and ran toward the heart of the camp.
She moved swiftly, weaving between buildings to avoid attention.
Finally, she hid in the shadows to catch her breath.
“Phew…”
Her target was the dark mage—and if Cedric was there, she would kill him too.
So far, everything was going according to plan.
Peeking out, she saw a massive building overlooking the entire camp.
Elizaveta stepped out and began walking as if she were just another soldier.
Then suddenly, she ran into someone.
A short man with a hood limped toward her.
Elizaveta tried to pass by calmly.
But then—
“Hey, you! Who are you?”
He pointed a finger at her.
“Take off your helmet.”
In that instant, she realized she’d been discovered.
She moved to knock him out and flee.
But at that moment—
[Powerful Word of Authority: Kill.]
A strange language echoed, and an unknown force gripped Elizaveta’s body.
It was a sensation she’d never felt before.
A crimson will tore through her mind and body.
Her consciousness plummeted.
Drawing her sword, she fought desperately to stay standing.
“An intruder.”
“Y-yeah.”
From the fading edges of her awareness, another voice spoke.
Elizaveta squinted and swung her sword, but her strength was gone—it was blocked.
Then a heavy blow struck her head.
Just before losing consciousness, she faintly heard their voices.
“Let’s offer this one as a sacrifice too. Throw her in the pit.”
“Understood.”
Cruar spoke.
“This might be the first war in history where all Ten Strong have taken part…”
She stood atop the mage tower with Sidhurst, gazing at the distant horizon.
Though only clouds drifted across the blue sky, the two could sense the brutal battles raging far beyond.
Sidhurst stroked his beard and chuckled.
“Ha ha, Lady Cruar, you’re right here, aren’t you?”
“My body is here, but behind the scenes, I wield tremendous influence over this war. Foolish old men who fail to see the true might of the great dragon Cruar will chew me up and spit me out…”
“Ah, ahem…”
Sidhurst cleared his throat, looking away.
In human form, wearing a dress, she appeared a graceful noblewoman—but inside dwelled the last dragon of the continent and one of the Ten Strong, Cruar.
Sidhurst asked,
“Are you sure you don’t want to go?”
“I want to, but the treaty forces me to stay here. There’s no choice…”
“Why not just break it?”
“Dragons can’t do that.”
“I see.”
Dragons were willful but also pure.
Asking them to break a promise was like telling someone with a fear of heights to walk a tightrope high in a tree.
Cruar grimaced.
“Anyway, Yuri Briol. That human will do well.”
“Have you given the Briol heir any guidance?”
“No.”
“Then what do you mean by indirect influence?”
“Not guidance, but the opposite. If I give him hardship, and because of that Yuri Briol wins this war, will he be grateful or resentful?”
“That depends on the kind of hardship.”
“Exactly.”
She sighed deeply.
“It wasn’t my intention from the start, but in the end, this is how it turns out.”
“Do you think humanity can win this war?”
“Who knows. The sky is opening.”
Croire lifted her gaze higher.
Beyond the blue sky, she could see the gateway to the outer universe slowly beginning to part.
What kind of being Cedric would summon was still unknown.
“It’ll be incredibly difficult, but we have to try.”
The sky was clear, as if mocking the futility of it all.
Perhaps this moment was the last peace the races of this land would ever know.
“Lady Croire.”
Sidhurst’s voice softened. With a serious expression, he asked, “Maybe, for ordinary people, the new world Cedric creates would be better?”
Cedric regarded humans as little more than monkeys.
It was a perception that could easily be taken as insulting.
But for those monkeys crushed and suffering under an unfairly tipped scale, perhaps the rule of a transcendent being who manages everything impartially, without emotion, might be preferable.
No more war.
No more hunger.
Criminals punished, contributors rewarded.
A world where everything runs efficiently, without a shred of waste.
That was Cedric’s blueprint.
“Sidhurst.”
Croire, who had been quietly listening, smiled faintly.
“Since I’m a dragon, let me tell you from my perspective.”
“Yes.”
“Dragons can’t live that way.”
Sidhurst felt a calmness in her gaze, as if she were looking at a child. He lowered his hand from his beard and returned her smile.
“I suppose that’s true.”
“I’m not human. I’m the last dragon left, but even so, I can’t live like that.”
Dark magic was a powerful tool, but it required human lives as sacrifices.
The world Cedric would create would surely be beautiful.
But beneath that dazzling stage, a few scapegoats would always writhe in pain and anguish.
A dragon’s conscience was firmer than a human’s.
Sidhurst said, “Lady Croire, you may feel that way, but humans will willingly look away.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I believe they will.”
“Are you disappointed in humanity, Sidhurst?”
“When you live long enough, you see a lot. Ha ha ha…”
“That’s just because you’ve lived too long and gotten clumsy, you foolish old man.”
“Hmm…”
“To live long means to be like me. And those burdened with too much time by the world eventually come to realize one thing.”
Croire turned her eyes away, gazing once more beyond the horizon.
“That this world is full of wonders.”
“I never expected you to say that, Lady Croire.”
“Is that so?”
Croire laughed.
“Well, some might call it chaos instead of wonder.”
Words are power.
They convey the inner images that can never be shared directly, using language as a tool.
For that reason, words are the purest form of magic connecting one person to another.
Croire’s words, her authority, reached Sidhurst.
[Because this world is filled with chaos, a being like Yuri Briol could come into existence.]