Chapter 52
The Barrier
“There’s no time. The trial will start soon. Once it does, there’ll be no way out.”
Ternaden spoke quickly, not giving Lasilia even a moment to react.
“We have to run now. Take my hand, sister.”
Without waiting for her reply, he reached out to snatch her hand.
Lasilia narrowly avoided his grasp.
“Why should I run?”
“The Duke’s been compromised.”
“…What? By who? How?”
“I mean… ah, damn it. There’s no time.”
Ternaden’s eyes darted anxiously to the closed door as he spoke in rapid bursts.
“I heard it from the Duke himself—what you’re planning to do. That you intend to admit your guilt and be deposed. That’s true, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think the Duke wanted that. He told me to bring the sorcerer again. Probably to ask if there was a way to restore your mark. But even I know you can’t cast the same spell on the same person twice. That’s impossible. So the Duke gave up and said he’d strike a deal with the temple, just like you told him to.”
Up to that point, there was nothing amiss.
But if that were the whole story, Ternaden wouldn’t have such a tense, desperate look on his face.
“And? Did something go wrong with the deal?”
“No.”
He shook his head. Then he said something completely unexpected.
“The Duke’s… changed. Ever since he came back from the temple.”
“Changed? How?”
“I’m not sure, but the sorcerer said so—said part of his mind had been stolen.”
“What… do you mean by that?”
The words his mind was stolen rang ominous.
For a fleeting moment, she thought of the Imperial tailor—who had seemed perfectly normal, yet whose every thought and action had been directed toward a single, implanted purpose.
“Like I said, I don’t know. But the sorcerer said he’s not in his right mind. That the only way to restore what was stolen is to give the thief what they want. It’s not magic, so even the sorcerer can’t intervene. Do you understand what that means?”
Ternaden gripped her shoulders.
“It means someone in the temple is targeting you. Someone with a power that’s neither magic nor sorcery! The trial won’t be fair—it’ll be a complete farce. No one can predict the outcome. We have to run.”
“I already know the temple is plotting something against the Imperial family—and now against me. But this is still a trial. They’ll at least pretend to follow the law. Imperial law says members of the royal family can’t be punished for murder.”
“Do you really think that’s the issue here?”
His voice cut sharp as a blade.
“They’re going to attack your claim to be Lescal’s consort. That’s where they’ll strike.”
“Right. Without the mark, I lose the title—”
“And who can prove whether the mark vanished… or was never there to begin with?”
“What?”
“Marks have never just disappeared. Naturally they’ll question it. And if they claim you never had one, that means the Pielion family committed treason. You, the Duke, me—we could all end up on the gallows.”
“….”
Lasilia froze.
“This dress—they didn’t put it on you for nothing. You’re going to be forced to show your mark out there, in front of every noble in the capital. Including the Emperor, of course.”
“That means…”
The deal was gone. The Duke, who should have secured it, had fallen into the temple’s hands. Whatever goal they’d given him, it was probably something the Imperial tailor had failed to achieve.
The safeguard she’d prepared for the trial had vanished.
The temple wanted something far worse than deposition.
The Emperor would try to prevent that, of course.
But if he did, it would be over. She’d never have another chance to leave him.
“So let’s run, sister. There’s no other way. Don’t trust the Duke. You can only trust me.”
“….”
She bit her lip, staring at the hand Ternaden held out to her.
“The sorcerer will help us get out of the country. It’ll be hard at first, but we can figure out the rest later. I know I’m not enough for you. But… but you can’t just sit here and face that trial.”
“Then…”
“Please, sister. How much longer do I have to beg you? Please, just once, believe me. You know I’m the one who cares about you more than anyone in this world.”
And then—
Please. Before it’s too late. Please believe me. I only want to save you. I don’t care if you don’t love me. We just have to run.
Ternaden’s inner voice came through vividly.
It wasn’t something she heard with her ears—it was more like something she saw.
He was telling the truth.
“…In that case.”
She didn’t know why she could hear his thoughts now. Maybe she didn’t want to think too hard about it. Because if she didn’t run now, she never would.
“How? Where will we go?”
“Ha… thank the gods.”
When she extended her hand, Ternaden took it and pressed it to his forehead, truly relieved.
“To where I came in. It’s a spell that lets me bring you here. If you’d refused, that door would have disappeared.”
“…? Then what about you?”
“I would have stayed here too. There’s no other way out of this room.”
“Ah…”
There was a man here who loved the Empress enough to risk his entire life.
I should tell him I’m not the Empress.
But not now. For now, she needed to escape.
“Let’s go.”
Ternaden led her toward a passage conjured by sorcery.
If only they could get away.
If only they could forget.
With that wish, Lasilia stepped into the unknown passage.
“…Huh?”
A senior mage of the Imperial Mage Guild tilted his head in confusion.
He’d been inspecting the barrier and tracking magic circles he’d laid around the Harios Great Temple for the past week.
Magic was an outdated relic.
As a field of study, it was endless, but its practical results were never quite worth the effort.
Take this barrier, for instance—it would take at least thirty years of study to construct, and even then, it was often cheaper and easier to just station a hundred knights to guard the area.
For all those reasons, the number of mages had been steadily declining. And unless you were born into a wealthy family who could support decades of study, becoming a mage at all was impossible.
Thus, most mages in the Empire belonged to the Imperial Guild.
Joining meant your living expenses and research costs were covered for life. The price was obeying the Imperial summons without complaint—but that didn’t happen often.
This was one of those rare occasions.
And with the annual research budget review approaching, the Guildmaster had spared no expense, sending the best senior mages.
Seven senior mages, each with twice as many assistants, had been deployed to the temple.
“There’s nothing wrong with the magic circle…”
Senior Mage Frian tilted his head again.
The barrier circle was intact. But oddly, the tracking circle was moving.
The Imperial order had been to seal the area around the temple so that anyone entering or leaving could be identified.
So the barrier and tracking circles had been linked—if one activated, the other would respond in kind.
“Why is only the tracking circle moving?”
“Uh? That would mean someone broke through the barrier and escaped, wouldn’t it?”
“But then why is the barrier still silent?”
Frian’s assistants tilted their heads as well.
These were people who’d spent their lives buried in magic theory, with almost no real combat experience—even senior mages were no exception. They knew their theory, but not how to handle surprises.
“Hmm… I don’t know.”
“Maybe the circle was flawed?”
“Or maybe you made a typo in the runes?”
Frian scowled.
“I did not!”
“Then why?”
“In a linked system, one circle can’t malfunction alone.”
The master glared at his students, who only kept asking questions.
“Don’t just stand there—go find the answer!”
“Huh? But if you don’t know, how would we—?”
“Us?”
“Go ask someone if you have to! …Wait.”
Frian suddenly snapped his head to the side.
“That circle’s moving too.”
“Huh?”
“What?”
“That’s another tracking circle!”
One would be strange enough—but two moving like this meant there was definitely a problem.
The Guildmaster’s face, pleading with him to protect next year’s budget, flashed before his eyes.
“If only the tracking circle moved, that means something got out… but the barrier didn’t react. Which means… wait, this is the temple.”
He turned to his students.
“Does divine power include anything like teleportation?”
They waved their hands dismissively.
“No way.”
“They’re completely different disciplines. Divine power only has five domains—Divination, Healing, Purification, Prosperity, and Cursing. Nothing else.”
“Then what could it be? Something unaffected by mana that can still teleport?”
“Uh… that would… ah!”
“What about sorcery?”
Exactly.
“Oh, that’s it! Sorcery! If they used sorcery to get past the barrier, the circle would stay silent—but once the target vanished, the tracking circle would move!”
Frian threw his hands up, suddenly excited.
As mentioned, mages these days had almost no real-world experience. Large-scale linked circles like this were things they only knew from theory—they couldn’t test them in a lab.
“My staff! Get my staff! And go alert the Imperial Guard!”
The assistants scrambled—one fetching the staff, another running toward the guard station.
Frian swung the staff with all his might.
“Trace! Trace the trace! Lock down the target!”
Wooooong—!
The dense network of magic circles around the temple began to move.
“There’s a carriage over there.”
Walking through the sorcerous passage felt strange—bright yet dark, time moving fast yet slow, thoughts stretching endlessly and then vanishing altogether.
Then, abruptly, the passage ended.
Lasilia found herself with her back against a wall—smooth and low—the wall surrounding the temple.
“We’re outside?”
“Yes.”
Ternaden pulled her forward. His hand was cold with sweat.
“Just a bit further, behind that tree… ah, there it is.”
He pointed to a plain black four-horse carriage—far too ordinary for a ducal household.
“We’re almost there. Once we’re in that carriage, no one will suspect a thing. We just have to cross the border. We’ll head to Trinidad—no one will think to look for you there.”
Warmth was slowly returning to his hand—sign that his tension was easing.
Yes… I’m going back.
She steadied herself and quickened her pace—
Wooooong… Bang!
The ground shook. Something flashed blue beneath the carriage.
Bang! Crack!
The light surged upward, and the carriage shattered.
“What? How—?!”
Ternaden’s eyes went wide in disbelief.
Above the wreckage, a darker glow bloomed, then—
Wooooong… Pop!
When it faded, a group of people stood on the ruins.
Unfortunately, every face was familiar.
“Your Majesty the Empress.”
It was Lian, speaking in a grave voice. Behind him stood Serven, Dekan, and—
“I’d like you to let go of her hand.”
—the Emperor, his gaze as sharp as a spearpoint.
