Was paradise ever possible for just one person?
Or was it nothing more than a wish held onto by those too stubborn to let go?
“I don’t… understand.”
Another vision.
“An origin just… disappearing? It doesn’t make sense…”
It had taken time, but Saintess Selena had finally uncovered a visual fragment from her vision.
A woman, with hair as white as snow and eyes as soft and deep as lavender.
“How…?”
Even with her deep understanding of the concept of origins, it was something Selena could not comprehend no matter how hard she pondered.
And that was the problem.
If an origin could simply vanish, if it could be erased from existence… then the balance of the world would crumble.
Her heart pounded. Her breath quickened.
She rose from her bed in an instant, bolting out of her chambers without so much as a second thought.
“High Priest! Sword Saint!” she shouted, her voice reverberating through the halls of the grand cathedral.
Priests, sisters, and clergymen all turned, startled by the sight of the Saintess in such a panicked state.
“Saintess? What’s going on?” one of the elder clergymen asked, hurrying toward her.
“Father Albert! Do you know where the High Priest or the Sword Saint is?”
“The High Priest is out in the Hegemony,” he replied, blinking his eyes. “As for the Sword Saint… probably drinking?”
“Ah, please, please! Call for him. Tell him to return immediately!”
“Saintess, is something the matter?”
Others began to gather around her, drawn by the commotion of her panicked state.
It wasn’t the first time she’d acted like this early in the morning.
And when she did, it usually meant one thing.
“I’m certain….”
The Saintess had received another vision.
* * *
There was an old story in Illenia.
A tale of a princess who had vanished without a trace over twenty-one years ago. She was no older than eight when she disappeared.
And now, standing before them, was a woman claiming to bear the same name.
Margaret Illenia.
Was it a scammer?
No, that couldn’t be.
An outsider wouldn’t have even known the princess’s name. It had long been buried from public record. That alone warranted the involvement of higher authorities.
With that in mind, the guards quickly sent for the village elders, who had lived through decades and remembered Illenia’s history firsthand.
Thud!
The sound rang out as the elders arrived and, almost instantly, dropped to their knees.
“Elder Jerry, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” one of the guards asked, alarmed.
Elder Jerry, despite his age, was still strong and healthy. At sixty-four, the refined cores of Illenian tradition had kept him healthy. There was no reason he should collapse so suddenly.
“P-Princess…” he whispered, voice trembling.
“….”
The guards exchanged stunned glances, watching as the other elders bowed their heads in reverence.
A lantern cast light across the woman’s face.
“….”
She was clearly injured, with blood staining parts of her torn clothes.
But even in her current state, her beauty was beyond comparison.
Not just in Illenia, but perhaps across the entire continent.
She opened her mouth.
“….Elder Jerry,” Margaret murmured.
To her, Elder Jerry was someone unforgettable.
He had survived the fall of Illenia. Back then, he had served as her father’s trusted advisor during their migration. Despite the loss and the need to adapt to the changes, he had always been there.
Until… he wasn’t.
The old man had succumbed to his health years later, passing away quietly on his deathbed.
Margaret remembered that day clearly.
He had treated her like his own granddaughter, and had guided her through those fragile years when the world around her had collapsed.
So this… made no sense.
How was Elder Jerry still alive?
Margaret’s eyes shifted, scanning the crowd. One by one, more faces stood out.
“….”
Faces she thought she’d never see again. Elder Yelena, Vivienne, Rohan. So on and so forth.
“Is it really you?” Elder Yelena asked softly and stepped forward.
“.…Grandma Yelena,” Margaret whispered.
The elder gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.
“Oh, heavens… it really is you, Princess!”
Tears spilled down their faces. A reunion Margaret couldn’t quite believe.
One by one, the elders wept openly. Relief, joy, and disbelief flashed across their faces, mingling in their cries.
The guards stood to the side, unsure of how to respond. One of them raised a brow, trying to process the scene unfolding before him.
This…. was the missing princess?
As far as he could see, she bore none of the delicate grace or polished poise expected of Illenia’s nobility.
From her perfectly toned muscles, and her callused fingers, she looked like a warrior.
Even through her tears, the force of her aura was unmistakable.
The guards exchanged glances. The energy that clung to her, even in a moment of vulnerability, made one thing clear.
“….”
Not a single knight in Illenia could hope to beast the princess in a duel.
“This is big news! It calls for a celebration!” Elder Rohan exclaimed, voice booming with excitement.
“But before that—His and Her Majesty will be thrilled to see you, Princess!”
“Huh…?” Margaret blinked.
Of course. With everyone here… how had she not thought of it sooner?
“Yes, that’s right!” another elder chimed in. “I can’t wait to see the reaction of His Majesty Klein and Her Majesty Amelia!”
“….”
Her Majesty… His Majesty…
Her parents.
They were alive.
The realization hit her like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from her lungs.
“They’re… alive…?” she whispered.
“Why wouldn’t they be?”
The elders nodded, smiles wide and warm through their tears.
If this was a dream…
“Oh, my… You must really miss them, princess… Come here, let it all out.”
Drip. Drip…!
….Then Margaret didn’t want to wake up.
* * *
“Arwen, are you ready?”
“Yes, Silas.”
With the intention of repaying the professor, Silas departed from the Ainsley Marquess Estate. But perhaps, due to his unease about the current state of the empire, and his fear for Arwen’s safety, he had to bring her along with him.
But of course, had no plans to bring her into the Astrea Domain itself.
Instead, he would take her directly to the Astrea Estate.
“Silas… Nice to see you again, Arwen!”
“It’s great to see you, Charlotte,” Arwen replied with a warm smile.
“….What a difference in treatment.”
Charlotte turned to him, brow raised. “You say something?”
“….No,” Silas muttered, looking away.
Anyway, that had been the professor’s advice. Given everything happening lately, it made sense.
Was it a risky move?
Perhaps.
After all, the Astreas, particularly, Vanitas Astrea, had their fair share of enemies.
But in equal measure, they had powerful allies. Allies strong enough that even the Emperor was behind him.
With that in mind, Silas knew it clearly that the Astrea Estate was not a place a rational enemy would attack without thinking.
Not unless they were prepared to face the full wrath of the Imperial Family.
And so, weighing the pros and cons in mind, there was no safer place for Arwen.
As the maids led her inside the mansion, Charlotte turned to him.
“Silas.”
“Yes?”
There was something in her expression. Was she worried?
‘Is she… worried about me?’
The thought surprised him. Coming from Charlotte, who never hid her dislike for him, it felt strangely out of character.
But then again, her dislike wasn’t without reason. Still, this was some development.
And since the professor was now his benefactor, it probably wasn’t ideal to have his little sister loathe him forever.
“….Protect my brother,” she said.
Ah. Of course. Her worry would obviously be directed to the professor.
Worried about him? He should’ve learned his lesson already.
Yet for some reason, that felt oddly disappointing.
“Who do you think he is?” Silas replied, sighing. “If anything, I need protection. The professor is far stronger than me.”
“….Maybe you’re right.”
She didn’t sound convinced.
Silas scoffed lightly. Seeing the look of uncertainty on her face, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry. The professor never goes in blind. If it looks risky, then trust me, he already has contingencies. That’s just how he is.”
“….”
But Charlotte didn’t respond. She stared intently at his hand resting on her shoulder.
Noticing it, Silas pulled back immediately. “Ah, sorry.
Charlotte wordlessly reached into her pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the spot where he’d touched her.
Wasn’t that a bit excessive?
She looked up at him and spoke with a flat expression.
“Please don’t touch me again.”
“….”
Why was he trying to help this House again?
* * *
The Astrea Domain, often referred to by its formal title, the Astrea Marquisate, was located in the northern territories of Aetherion. It wasn’t cold enough for snow to fall regularly, but cold enough that its outermost regions remained blanketed in white all year round.
Its official name was Axenburg.
Historically, the land had once belonged to the powerful Esmeralda Duchy. But after their downfall, the territory was reassigned and granted to the Astrea Marquess as part of a royal decree.
When the knights stationed in the village saw the approaching group, they were stunned.
The Lord himself had come.
And it wasn’t just the knights.
Even the villagers, bundled in thick cloaks and shawls, peeked out from windows and doorways, shock evident in their expressions. For many of them, this was the first time they’d ever laid eyes on the overseeing Lord.
In the past, under the rule of the Esmeraldas, the villagers had been treated like property. They had been exploited, and the tax rates were abysmally high. So when the Astreas took over, they expected more of the same.
But to their surprise… the new Lord barely paid them any attention at all.
Instead, changes were implemented under their noses.
The overseeing Crusade Order was replaced. Tax rates were adjusted. And new infrastructure began to take shape such as well-planned roads, grain storage, water systems, patrol rotations designed to protect. So on and so forth.
All of it… without the villagers having to pay a single dime.
It felt like a miracle.
And because of that, when the newcomers arrived, they were met with open arms.
Some greeted them with genuine warmth, others with cautious eyes. But overall, the reception was surprisingly welcoming.
Even the skeptical had to admit, things had changed. And for once, the change didn’t hurt.
“Lord Astrea!”
One of the overseeing knights hurried forward, prepared to greet the approaching figures.
But before Vanitas could respond, someone else stepped forward to intercept the greeting.
It was one of the knights who had arrived with him, Margaret’s current second-in-command, Violette, who was clad in dark silver armor with a violet trim.
“Reynard,” she greeted with a faint smile. “It’s great to see you again.”
“Ah! Miss Violette!” Reynard straightened and offered a grand salute, striking his chest with enthusiasm. “It’s an honor!”
Violette nodded in acknowledgement. “At ease. Now, explain the situation clearly to the Lord.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Reynard turned toward Vanitas, who gave a silent nod, signaling him to proceed.
The report unfolded exactly as expected.
Margaret had uncovered signs of chimeric activity and dispatched a knight to return and warn the Crusade Order stationed in the area. When the reinforcements arrived and moved to support her position, they were met with a gruesome scene.
And amidst the trail of slain bodies, Margaret was nowhere to be found.
“Then explain,” Vanitas said, brows raised. “Why were there no reports until Margaret arrived?”
His voice was calm, but cold. There was no excuse.
If chimeras had been active in the area, there should’ve been reports long before Margaret ever got involved. Which could only mean that the patrols hadn’t been doing their job properly.
Violette’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Reynard’s hesitation.
Reynard flinched.
“I—I… we had no signs of activity in the outer region,” he stammered. “We thought it was quiet. The last few months showed no movement. We’d just completed a sweep two days prior, I swear!”
“Is that so?”
Silas and Ezra exchanged glances, alternating their eyes between Reynard, Violette, and Vanitas. Then, to the village. At a glance, it seemed peaceful enough.
After a moment of silence, Vanitas finally spoke.
“All right then. First, show us to our reception.”
“Yes, sir!”
The reception prepared for the party, Vanitas, Silas, Ezra, Violette, and housemaids he had brought along was held in the old Esmeralda mansion located at the heart of Axenburg.
The estate had once belonged to the second son of House Esmeralda, before he was kicked out, following the family’s fall from grace. Since then, the property had been reclaimed, cleaned, and repurposed by the stationed Illenia Knights in preparation for the arrival of the new lord.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Illenia Knights who had accompanied Vanitas’s party were escorted to the local inns.
Inside the estate, Vanitas sat on a couch in the drawing room. He turned his gaze to Violette, who stood at attention nearby.
“Violette.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you been here before?”
“Yes. Three times, actually, about a month ago,” she replied. “And to be honest, there were no signs of chimeras then either.”
Vanitas leaned back, one arm resting on the armrest as he narrowed his eyes in thought.
“Nothing unusual at all? No patterns? No missing livestock? Strange reports from the outer regions?”
Violette shook her head. “None. The border logs were clean, and the Crusade Order hadn’t flagged any incidents.”
He nodded slowly.
“Then something changed recently,” he muttered. “Or something was missed.”
“Have you thought of something, my Lord?”
“Not yet,” he replied, rising from the couch. “But if we’re going to get to the bottom of this, we’ll need to go to the location of the incident ourselves.”
“Yes, sir!”
He turned toward the open doorway.
“Ezra. Silas. Prepare to depart.”