Chapter 18
In that very instant, Silva’s mental link with Yenoa snapped—no, Yenoa had unilaterally severed it.
Not a single message came through before the connection died. One moment, all seemed calm; the next, Yenoa vanished without a trace.
A cold wave of worry washed over Silva. Three possibilities flickered in her mind: Yenoa had met an untimely end, deliberately cut the link for a reason, or stepped into a magical barrier that blocked mental connections.
But Silva trusted Yenoa. With her strength, she wouldn’t fall so easily. Nor would she sever the link without sending even a hint of warning.
This sudden silence likely meant battle. But why no message at all?
Unless… she had her reasons.
Silva’s suspicion slowly took shape.
Before leaving the palace, she’d dismissed guards—Roland was enough. Silva knew well: even with his cultivation sealed, Roland possessed power far beyond ordinary men. Paired with her own status as an Archmage, safety hadn’t been a concern. Only Yenoa had insisted on following.
And within the palace walls, countless schemed to eliminate the crown princess.
Silva guessed she and Roland were already targeted. Assassins had likely been sent—but Yenoa intercepted them. Perhaps the severed link came from that clash.
Still, without proof, it was only speculation. *Please… don’t be hurt, Yenoa,* Silva prayed silently.
Noticing her troubled expression, Roland murmured, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just reviewing recent policy drafts,” Silva replied with a faint, private smile, voice low enough for only him to hear.
“Oh.” Roland nodded, unsurprised. He knew the doting wife beside him was, in truth, a crown princess who swayed hearts and tides with effortless grace—naturally, work lingered in her thoughts.
…
The group soon plunged deep into the forest. Trees here stood taller, thicker, canopies denser. Miraculously, no powerful magical beasts crossed their path—not even near several dens. It seemed the deeper-dwelling creatures had fled first.
Dusk fell. The thick foliage overhead swallowed the last light, plunging the woods into near-total darkness.
Yet human ingenuity endured. Ages ago, mages crafted magic to pierce the night.
“Night Vision spell is a lifesaver,” an adventurer sighed.
“You’ve said that a hundred times,” his companion retorted.
“Tch. Can’t I appreciate it? This spell’s saved countless adventurers!”
Murmurs rippled through the group.
“Just a few hundred meters more,” Idris checked the red mark on his map, pulse quickening. “Hope our target’s still there.”
“What are you searching for?” Roland asked.
Idris folded the map, hesitating. “A duke’s commission. Needs a Crescent Moon Herb—likely for potions. It only grows deep in Xige Forest. After long inquiries, we learned a Grade 7 Red Lizard guards one.”
“Crescent Moon Herb… yeah, used in potions,” Roland mused. *Mostly aphrodisiacs…*
*Poor duke. Overindulgence, huh?*
“Ah!” Silva’s eyes lit up. “I recall—Duke Dobin issued this. His son recently bought several beauties… nearly died from overindulgence. He probably needs the herb to restore his son’s health.”
*Damn. Really was overindulgence.* Roland raised an eyebrow.
“How embarrassing! Won’t his reputation suffer?” an adventurer whispered.
“You misunderstand,” Roland drawled. “Nobles don’t scorn each other for this. To them, any woman ‘honored’ by them is lucky. They care only for wealth, status, power. Noble private lives? A tangled mess. Incestuous affairs are rampant—I’ll spare the examples. Might make you sick.”
“No wonder you’re a big shot!”
“Exactly! You’ve clearly rubbed shoulders with nobles!”
Roland had become a legend among them. Every word drew admiration. Though labeled a mid-tier mage, none saw him that way. Their gazes held him like a Grand Sage-level master—pure reverence.
Winning hearts, especially male hearts? Roland matched Silva’s skill. Though being swarmed by male admirers left him in a quiet dilemma.
“Big shot,” an adventurer leaned in, voice hushed. “Palace gossip? I heard Crown Princess Silva and Head Maid Yenoa are into yuri…”
*Sorry. Personally verified—they’re not.*
“False,” Roland replied without pause. “Crown Princess Silva is heterosexual. She prefers men in their forties.”
“Hiss—she’s only eighteen! Likes older men? Juicy!” The adventurer swallowed it whole.
“And Head Maid Yenoa…” Roland paused deliberately. “She’s into overweight men. Rumor says she enjoys ‘disciplining’ them. After work? Leather outfit, whip… you get the idea.”
“Ew, vulgar… but she’s stunning! Getting whipped by a beautiful maiden? Dreamy!” A male adventurer drooled openly.
Silva pouted, clinging tightly to Roland’s arm with a sulky glare.
Just then—
“We’re here!” Idris called from the front.
