Sophia slowly raised her head and scanned the area. The entire camp had vanished, replaced by a freshly formed mudflat.

Beneath the crisp moonlight, this filthy patch of earth felt strangely sacred and serene.

No trace remained to prove a bandit camp had ever stood here.

Wand in hand, Sophia stepped carefully onto the muddy path and walked away.

"Your magic is nearly gone, isn't it?" An's voice echoed softly in Sophia's mind.

Sophia paused, then gave a slight nod.

Pretending she still had power would bring no benefit.

"True," An murmured, glancing at the wreckage. "For a human to wield fairy magic with such limited reserves… Pulling off a spell this vast is already a miracle."

That was why An had praised her earlier—this magic had brushed the edge of a ninth-tier spell.

Without the magic circle and the fairy's power boost, even draining every drop of her magic wouldn't have sufficed.

"Let's go. Tonight, you'll sleep in the woods," An said, then closed her eyes again.

Sophia nodded, her gaze lingering on the camp's sole survivor—the prison cell.

Unseen by the girl, An opened her eyes once more as Sophia walked away, her own gaze fixed on the cell.

A memory surfaced—An's earlier question:

...

"Why not kill the bandits and take the camp?"

"Leaving them alive might cause the Regan Empire some future trouble."

...

Back then, the girl hadn't known where the villagers were held.

Only after learning the cell's location did the deluge fall—and deliberately spare this one spot.

An let out a soft, cold snort and closed her eyes.

*Still can't shake that "kindness."*

After Sophia and An departed, the camp sank into eerie silence.

All living things had been swallowed and crushed by the mudflow.

Except the cell.

Creak—

The cell door swung open. A villager woman peered out cautiously, scanning the scene.

Seeing the sea of mud, she froze.

"What is it? Are the bandits here?" Urgent whispers pulled her back.

She looked at the trembling villagers behind her, shook her head slowly—then hesitated. "But…"

"Forget 'but'! Are they here or not? I'll see for myself." Another woman pushed past and stared out.

Her eyes widened. "Gone… They're *gone*!? The bandits vanished!?"

Joy flashed across the women's faces. They rushed out.

They didn't question why the door opened after the bandits left.

Escape was all that mattered.

*That captured girl?*

If she bought them time, they'd be grateful.

But the sight outside stunned them into silence.

Mudflat. Rubble. Broken trunks of The Tree.

No bandits. No huts. As if erased.

"What… happened?"

"Who cares? Run—now!"

"Yeah! What if they return?"

"Go, go, go!"

Muttering anxiously, they shoved and scrambled away from the sudden mudflat.

The night path was treacherous, but desperation made them crawl if needed—just *escape*.

"Mom… what about that sister?"

The boy who'd given Sophia bread tugged his mother's sleeve, eyes on the mud.

"Don't worry. She looks strong. She'll be fine," the mother soothed—though her true thoughts stayed hidden.

The boy frowned thoughtfully, but at her urging, cast one last glance at the moonlit silence and hurried after the group.

Beyond the camp, Sophia stumbled through the forest.

Utterly drained. The spell had emptied her completely.

Only the last shred of willpower kept her from collapsing into the dark woods.