“Medith... why put yourself through this?” Haidra looked at her, brows drooping like willows in rain. “You only had to endure a moment, stall him a little. Go later if you wished. But now—”

The three sat opposed, like chess pieces before a final move. Talant’s fine brows knotted like stormclouds. Medith had cornered herself, yet the play fit her to the bone.

Paris had likely foreseen all this, even her reply. “I’m sorry, Medith...” Talant’s worry was a winter sigh. “You’ve already given us so much, and now we’ve dragged you in...”

Relief flickered through Medith, though her face stayed bitter, like bark against frost. “Can’t help it... I’m stubborn. He pressed me in front of a crowd. No way I swallow that.”

“Since it’s done, arguing right or wrong is wind on water.” Her voice steadied like a keel. “In a way, we’re on the same boat now. Whatever happens, be careful.”

“Don’t give Paris any handle to grab. Right now, only you can check his ambition. For the moment, his status still stands like a stone pillar.”

“Then you... what next? Will you really do as Paris says—obey him and start drilling his troops?” Haidra’s worry throbbed like a taut string.

Medith’s mouth tipped up, prepared like a blade in sleeve. “Of course I will. Only, the ones I’ll train are you.”

“Huh?” Haidra blinked. Talant’s eyes lit with playful frost. “You mean, use this chance to meet us in broad daylight? We’re a royal corps too, Eunomia’s soldiers. He can’t forbid you from training us, right?”

“Smart move. Though... aren’t you too busy to show up yourself?”

Medith nodded. She drew a sheet from her robe, took up a quill, and let it dance like a swift over water. A quarter hour later, she handed Talant a page dense with uncanny symbols.

“What’s this...” Talant saw only a tangle of thorns, a sky of glyphs. To most, it was dead straw.

“Decode it by my method, and the words will bloom.” Medith’s tone was a soft ember. “I’ll send more notes on schedule. For Paris, I’ll give matching keys—useful, but away from the core. For you two, I’ll empty my coffers, no holding back.”

“That way, even if he grumbles, it won’t be enough to bring down punishment, right?” The old wisdom in her gaze returned like a lighthouse, and the two women breathed easier.

“Then we can rest easy. Only, we owe you even more...” Talant sighed, like snow piling on eaves.

“Don’t say that. My ally is Eunomia, not Paris.” Medith waved it off, light as reeds in wind.

The two women traded a glance and a smile, bright as twin crescents. A beat later, Haidra brushed her hair, alluring as a ripple. “By the way, your trade route’s opening soon, right? I’ll send some elites over. The more the better. Then you can stash strength for us in plain sight.”

“Good idea. If I ask, Paris will have to agree, whether he wants to or not.” Talant nodded, satisfied as a clasp clicking shut.

“Then the board is set. Sisters, tread carefully. Tomorrow I head back north to the city. I’ve lost a strong ally, so I must seek a new mountain to lean on.” Medith was frank as sunlight on steel.

Both women sprang up, respect rising like a banner. “Safe travels. And whenever you need it, the Dike Guard is your most loyal ally.”

“Mm... speaking of which, about Tianensai—how are Mure and the others reacting?” Medith asked, a shadow crossing like a cloud over a field.

Haidra’s smile froze like water under frost. “The Dike Guard is a mess. Hearts are shaking, torn between loyalty to the kingdom and loyalty to the king. Other than the senior officers you met that day, no one knows the truth.”

“We don’t know what’s become of Tianensai. If we can find him, he’d be a great help...”

“When the boat reaches the bridge, it finds the way,” Medith said, calm as a slow river. “His skill is beyond doubt. He and I are alike—read the board, make the optimal move. If he chose to flee, he could flee. He had reason.”

“I believe a day will come when we fight side by side.”

She finished. The two women nodded. The candlelight thinned, dimmer and dimmer, like dusk swallowing a hill.

7.15. Medith asked to return. Paris had expected it, and only said, “Approved.”

7.16. Medith set sail home. She carried back grain in bulk and some coin, but little else. Not because she didn’t ask. Because Paris didn’t give. The palace air turned eerie, like ice fog. Everyone knew: the two were in a cold war.

7.20. Medith reached Sia City. After brief courtesies like warm tea in winter, she left the city lord a jade-green leaf. Inside, she sealed a spell—Sais and the others’ power, near full strength. Before leaving, she warned: when you use it, don’t step within twenty meters.

8.3. Medith returned to Sass City. People wept for joy like rain after drought, as if they’d survived a parting by death. In a month apart, Nameless looked taller in spirit, his aura thicker, like earth after thunder.

The Lina Sisters were even more surprising. Little arms showed faint muscle lines. The Elf Clan keeps a fixed form. Their bodies set around twenty-four by human count, then show age only after roughly seven hundred years.

In that span, build and looks don’t change, no matter the fussing. That’s one reason humans from other lands hunt Wind Sprites: one capture, beauty that doesn’t fade—one and done, one and done.

Even so, in just over a month, the Lina Sisters had coaxed out a trace of muscle. They must’ve been grinding hard, like whetstones on steel.

“Everyone... if you’re safe, I’m fine. But Lina, Rita, you two... helping a bit too much? You’re growing muscle...” Medith smirked and pumped her right fist up and down.

“What?! No way! It’s from drawing the bow! The bow!” Rita puffed her cheeks, face red as sunset.

“Same thing, same thing.” Sais patted her head, gentle as a spring breeze.

“Not the same at all!” Lina huffed and kicked Nameless.

Nameless yelped. “What’s it got to do with me? It’s not like the Commander said anything wrong.” He spoke, then bolted like a startled hare.

Lina blinked, then killing intent spilled like lightning. She raised her bow and loosed in a flash. In a heartbeat, a sharp arrow pinned the ground before Nameless. “Run. Keep running!” She grabbed him, flipped him, and pinned him to the earth.

Laughter rippled through the crowd like wind over wheat. Medith’s flower-bright face opened, comfort tinged with ache. “I won’t let this scene vanish. Even if I must burn the world to ash, I’ll still...”

She stared at that dreamlike daily moment, as if carving it into her soul.