Prologue – Part 02
In the center of the underground archive stood a ladder, connecting the basement to the floor above. From the entrance at the top of the ladder, a red-haired woman was hanging upside down, peering in headfirst. She stared at them with eyes as fiery red as her hair.
Her complete lack of decorum befitting a woman her age left Luke utterly stunned.
“How long have you been eavesdropping, Cecily Campbell?”
He kept his internal panic in check, hoping she hadn’t overheard the earlier conversation.
“You make it sound like I’d committed a crime, Luke Ainsworth,” she retorted indignantly, still hanging upside down. “Lisa asked us to bring you lunch. I’ll be down in a second.”
Her head disappeared from sight, replaced by familiar boots descending the ladder.
Cecily wore the uniform of the Knight Guard. The lower half consisted of a white waistcloth, which made the view from below a touch risqué. Realizing this, Luke moved with lightning speed, grabbing Ewen’s head and rotating him a full 180 degrees.
Once Cecily reached the floor, she raised an eyebrow at the odd sight. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Luke said, letting go of Ewen’s head.
Ewen, having strained his neck, shot him a resentful glare.
“All right, make way, make way!”
This time, a woman dressed like a dancer descended the ladder. Her bare feet and the hem of her flapping skirt briefly came into view, before Luke’s vision rotated 180 degrees.
Upon reaching the floor, the chestnut-haired woman, Aria, gave them a puzzled look. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing at all,” Ewen replied as he released Luke’s head.
Nursing his neck, Luke glared at him bitterly.
“Did you really have to come down here?” Luke muttered.
The cramped space felt unbearably stifling with four people. Annoyed, Luke took a step back from Cecily, only to notice something unusual about her attire.
Though she still wore the Knight Guard’s uniform, additional gear had been added. A white cape draped over her shoulders, secured by pauldrons, and gauntlets covered her arms. All that and her thicker clothes gave her a slightly imposing appearance. The only feminine touch was a decorative hair accessory.
Noticing his gaze, Cecily explained, “It’s winter now. The old uniform gets chilly, so I made some adjustments. Besides, considering the battles ahead, it’s better to get used to this outfit now.”
“So you say, but the truth is, you just liked it after wearing it during the last mock battle. You couldn’t wait to show it off to—”
“A-Aria!” Cecily quickly covered Aria’s mouth.
Ewen smirked knowingly, which only fueled Luke’s annoyance.
“So, you’re just here to flaunt it, huh?”
“N-Not at all! I heard you discussing something important.” Fuming, Cecily turned to face Luke. “I’m coming with you to the Crowd Powers.”
Here we go again. Luke pressed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.
“I need to know,” she declared resolutely.
Yeah, that’s the kind of woman Cecily is.
“Why did my grandfather agree to the first Housman’s procedure? How did the Campbell family become the Sacred Sword’s Sheath? Was it voluntary, or was it a freak accident? As the current head of the family, I need answers. We’ll make it back in time for the conference, won’t we? Then there shouldn’t be an issue.”
Just like him, she was someone who refused to sit idly by, always seeking to challenge herself with everything within her reach—the most troublesome kind of person.
“Luke, you said you’d save me.” She smiled at him. “But I’m not a woman who will just sit around waiting for help.”
Aria glanced at Ewen, nodding in agreement at her partner’s words. For reasons unknown to Luke, Ewen took a step back from Aria with an awkward smile. But that was all. He likely wouldn’t back him up here.
“Knock yourself out,” Luke muttered.
At this point, he had no choice but to give up.
Their destination was the former Crowd Powers.
A carriage raced across the wilderness, wheels and hooves tearing through the earth as it thundered forward amid powders of snow drifting from the pale sky.
Hilda Cavendish, holding the reins of the two horses from the driver’s seat, squinted against the cold wind and snow that slapped her face. She could feel her eyelashes freeze slightly. Despite wearing heavy winter clothing, riding in this season took its toll on her.
“Are we there yet?”
Her master’s voice came from behind, inside the passenger compartment. The noise of the wheels turning was deafening.
Hilda shouted, “Almost there.”
“That’s what you said a while ago.”
“Exactly. This is why I dislike long journeys.”
Hilda had grown used to her master’s grumbling. She glanced over her shoulder.
They were riding in a two-horse, four-wheeled carriage, the kind used by imperial nobles. The box-shaped passenger compartment was sealed tight, keeping the cold out, and inside, the warmth was maintained by jewel steel heating. Hilda hoped her master could endure a little shaking or boredom while she shivered in the driver’s seat.
The driver’s seat was next to a window in the passenger compartment, which was slightly fogged but still allowed a glimpse inside. A woman was reclined on a velvet-upholstered seat.
The first thing that caught the eye was their asymmetrical appearance. Possessing a petite frame, resembling that of a young girl, they wore a black-and-white dress. Their hairstyle was also uneven—right side tied up, while the left flowed freely. Even their eyes were mismatched, the right red and the left blue.
“But Eva, these are Lord Siegfried’s orders.”
“Indeed, Eliza. We must carry out our mission with the utmost diligence.”
The woman used one mouth to speak in two distinct voices and personalities. The first voice was high-pitched, rough, and childlike—belonging to Eliza. The second was low, polite, but with a cold edge—belonging to Eva.
Each time the voices and personalities swapped, their expression changed as well. One moment, they wore a childish smile, and the next, their face transformed into that of a mature woman. It was as though they were constantly donning a new mask, and it was unsettling to an observer.
They were Hilda’s nonhuman master. The Infernal Blade Eliza Eva.
Though Hilda couldn’t see them from the driver’s seat, she knew they were not alone in the compartment.
The lump of iron was there as well. A puppet, just like Hilda.
Hilda turned her gaze back to the front. She tightened her grip on the reins. Beyond the galloping horses lay a vast wilderness, stretching endlessly into the horizon.
She overheard Eliza Eva’s conversation.
“This is an important mission, Eliza. The city we’re about to conquer is crucial to the plan. We can’t afford to ruin everything Lord Siegfried has worked so long to prepare.”
“I know, Eva. You’ve said that a million times already.”
“You tend to go overboard. Please, just subdue them. Don’t annihilate them by accident. We’re going to turn all prisoners into slaves.”
“Yeah, yeah. But it’s been a while since we had a big job. I’m itching for some action.”
“I’m not denying it. I, too, admit to a little thrill.”
Soft giggles accompanied the casual exchange. Hilda paid no attention to their words.
She was a slave. She had been a slave since the moment she was born, so she felt nothing.
Right now, I’m transporting destruction.
There was no need to agonize over it. It was simply a task to be carried out. She didn’t need to think. She would freeze her heart.
But sometimes that didn’t work. As always, the face of that woman would flash across her mind. The foolish woman who had easily set her free after capturing her.
I wonder what she’s doing now.
If possible, she never wanted to see her again.
Even as she served Eliza Eva, a feeling lingered in Hilda. A feeling close to fear. It pressed against her back, urging her forward. So Hilda whipped the horse’s rear, pushing the carriage faster.
They broke through the wall of cold wind. A whole country was about to fall by their hands.
A small nation in the former Crowd Powers.
Valbanill.
Considered the worst of the Inhumans in continental history, views on it differed depending on the faction.
The Empire referred to it as a King, a figure to revere.
The Militant Nation called it a Beast, a foe to vanquish.
The Crowd Powers labeled it Machina, a source of wealth.
The Independent Trade City viewed it as a God, a fleeting object of faith.
And the first Housman saw it as a test subject.
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