Pressure hung over the garden like a storm lid. The crafted rocks and bridges felt frozen mid-breath. Birds and brook hushed. A paradise wore an unseen shadow.

“At least, all the evidence I have points to this, Your Majesty.”

Adelaide answered, her voice steady like a blade laid flat. Under Menglan’s measuring gaze, she sketched her path before the Elven Realm, her words like stones across a river. She outlined the Empire’s tangled politics, then guided the talk toward the heart of it.

“Rockridge, the current regent of the Sarman Empire, has slaughtered civilians under the banner of ‘suppression.’ Corpses piled like cold fuel, enough to feed a revival array.” She paused, breath a held thread. “And the array’s need for three mediums—Mira and I have the scars to prove it.”

If activation needed only two, like Menglan once suggested, Rockridge would’ve moved ten years ago. When Mira’s gifts first flared like dawn, he wouldn’t have waited for both girls to grow teeth.

“He began almost the same season a student named Skela enrolled. Skela happens to be a third candidate as medium. That means, to reach his aim, he likely—no, he must—gather three.”

Not likely. Certain.

Menglan didn’t press. She watched Adelaide’s eyes like a still lake staring back.

“You’re so sure, yet you won’t explain. Let me guess… it’s about that ‘dream,’ isn’t it?”

“…Mm.”

His words hit the knot. Adelaide nodded, calm surface over deep water.

Her certainty came from one memory that burned like a hidden brand. Near the TE ending of “Holywell Academy,” Mira handed the Sacred Heart to Skela by her own choice. Looking now, that baffling act hid a simple blade: make Skela a medium and push the array toward ignition.

In that same CG of a moment, Rockridge appeared warped beyond human shape. He was a wielder of a dual-extreme aptitude within an innate magical domain. The grafts on him looked like stitched nightmares. With those, he likely stood at medium level as well.

In other words, on the TE route, Mira had two mediums in hand. In theory, enough to launch the “greatest sacrifice” and seize the souls of the entire Empire like a net cast over the sea.

But that wasn’t how Adelaide remembered the tide.

On the TE route, Mira didn’t trigger the array. Skela killed her.

Why? A sudden mercy? Or the realization that two mediums wouldn’t light the engine?

Adelaide didn’t know. Her memory of “Holywell Academy” was a torn tapestry. It ended when Skela’s blade sank into the purple birthmark on Mira’s belly. The truth stayed behind the shuttered door.

By now, she would likely never learn what that Mira wanted, or what horizon she aimed for.

Each time that thought rose like smoke, Adelaide’s hand clenched by reflex. Like a homeowner who knows a theft happened, yet can’t name which heirloom is gone. Anxiety gnawed with no face to bite. The worst feeling is a storm with no shape.

…Yet it no longer mattered. It was only a text adventure. The “Mira” inside—same voice, same face—was ink and pixels, not her sister of flesh and warmth.

They were not the same. Whatever that “Mira” wished in her dying breath meant nothing. Adelaide yanked the thorn out of her heart like a splinter under the nail and forced her mind back onto rails.

What mattered was this: if real Rockridge and the “Mira” in the game both failed with two mediums, then someone had tampered with the array. Extra functions braided in. The count of required mediums rose like stakes on a table.

For Adelaide, that was an opening carved by fate’s knife.

She lifted her head and met Menglan’s gaze like steel meeting moonlight.

“Your Majesty, do you remember the Plum-Jade Medal you granted me half a year ago?”

Menglan glanced at Adelaide’s bare collar, her eyes a cool sweep. “Of course I remember. You, however… don’t seem in the habit of wearing it.”

“I wouldn’t dare carry something so precious. It’s not just a pretty trinket. It holds your promise: with that medal, I can petition you. In return for helping the Elven Realm fight chaos, you’ll grant me one wish, yes?”

“Yes—but a wish that harms no innocent, and stays within our power.”

Menglan’s lids lowered like curtains. Her fingers read the stream as if it were a page. Adelaide met that look with clean eyes, a clear sky after rain.

“Then you can rest easy. I harbor no cruel intent. I want your hand to help me save hundreds of millions.”

“Oh? Hundreds of millions sounds grand. What do you want, exactly?”

“I want you to send troops toward the Empire.”

Menglan stilled, then breathed a soft laugh, a bell under silk.

“That doesn’t sound very noble.”

“Of course, I don’t ask you to truly wage war on the Sarman Empire.” Adelaide’s words came quick, like sparrows taking flight. “Since the regent’s faction and the reformers started tearing at each other, the human capital’s air turned knife-sharp. Both sides rallied their men. Their elite are packed into Balad like iron in a forge. That makes the capital’s defenses ironclad. And that iron wall is Rockridge’s safest shield.”

Menglan thought for half a heartbeat, then nodded, as if a lantern lit inside.

“So you want me to feign an incursion. Park forces near the Empire. Make the humans pull their best to the border. Then you play ‘seize the king first’ in the emptied capital.”

“Exactly. Trading thoughts with a mind like yours is pure ease.” Adelaide offered that praise like a toast, then pressed on. “This decapitation needs only me and Mira. You and the Lionheart Hero needn’t risk a hair. We’re confident we can finish the job and stop the regent before his crime crests.”

“Are you? I heard that Rockridge, that human elder, has decent magical talent.”

Adelaide shook her head, a quiet refusal. “He does have the aptitude to be a medium. But as you said, the one receiving soul power can’t serve as a medium too. Mira and I will stop his scheme to manufacture a third medium. We’ll sever his chance to complete the array.”

“I see… You’ve counted the details. Looks like you planned this long ago.”

“Yes. It’s the answer with the fewest lives lost.”

“Fewest lives lost… That part is good. However…”

Menglan’s eyes fell. Her long fingers skimmed the stream. Moonlight shattered into silver crumbs; the round face broke its reflection.

“However, if your plan stumbles, or if the three-medium premise fails, then your move hands the regent his best resource on a silver plate.”

Have you weighed that risk?

Her voice was tranquil as a deep pond. Yet the sovereign’s pressure rose again, a mountain pressing down onto Adelaide’s shoulders.

“This isn’t a jest. On the table aren’t just you and your lovely sister. Every life in this circle sits beside your bet.” She tapped a glaring red ring on the spread scroll, a target like a wound, and sighed. “You say ‘minimal casualties.’ To me, it’s too risky. Better that I truly march into the Empire. Let my army strike straight for the underground array, break key nodes, and solve it root and branch.”

“Actually… march into the Empire?”

“Yes.”

At that calm answer, Adelaide’s brows drew tight, a bowstring pulled.

“But then you’ll clash with the Empire head-on. For an army that just battled the Void Rift, is that wise?”

“Thanks to the snares you set early, our true losses were light. Half a year’s rest was plenty.” Menglan smiled, spring over granite. “Besides, like you said, their elites are tied to the capital. Now’s the perfect hour to strike the blind side. We don’t aim to occupy anything. We only need to ‘borrow’ a small mouth into the underground space. No broad, frontal clash. Casualties near zero.”

Best case, the humans won’t even know we came.

Menglan’s gaze returned to Adelaide, a question held like a cup. Adelaide fell into a brief silence, then drew a deep breath. She smiled and nodded, assent settling like a seal.

“You’re right. My plan carries a hair more chance of blood, while yours is far safer. With hundreds of millions at stake, heart and reason both say we should take your path.”

“Oh? I thought you’d push back a little.”

“Your logic is clean and airtight. What could I argue?” Adelaide smiled, but a flint of care remained. “Still, I must point out one flaw.”

“Oh? I’m all ears.”

“Your plan is perfect, but it rests on the humans being unaware. It assumes they still think elves are aloof and apart, high clouds never tasting dust.” She paused, a beat like a drum. “If they know what you intend—if they expect a sudden strike—the path won’t be so smooth.”

Menglan gave a soft scoff, like wind through leaves. “Listen to you, as if walls had ears and they heard every word.”

Adelaide shook her head, steady as a pillar. “That’s impossible. Humans aren’t gods. No one slips into Your Majesty’s private garden at will. But they do know you’re mobilizing.”

Menglan’s face held a note of confusion, a ripple across calm water. Adelaide didn’t keep her waiting. She laid the blade bare.

“After all, you’ve already made a move on them.”