“Ugh…”
“What’s wrong, Instructor… I mean, Director?”
“…It’s nothing. Don’t worry.”
Inside the carriage heading toward the fortress city of Ester, Sylvia forced a calm demeanor, offering a warm smile to the staff around her.
Beneath her composed exterior, however, she tightly clasped her trembling hands.
‘It’s happening again without my sword…’
When had it started?
This strong obsession with swords.
Feeling restless unless a sword hung at her waist, something she could constantly touch and fiddle with.
She couldn’t remember exactly, but it had been a long time.
Every time she returned alive from the battlefield, she had her sword.
Even when she escaped forests teeming with monsters, the hilt of her blade was always in her hand.
Perhaps it was only natural for her to develop such dependency.
But if one were to ask whether this current condition was merely an extension of that dependency, the answer would be no.
She had long abandoned her obsession with swords.
Sylvia no longer needed to constantly touch her blade to stave off anxiety.
Thanks to the Count’s intervention, she no longer felt consumed by unease without her sword.
The Count probably still thought she was attached to it…
‘I could never tell him that my fixation has simply shifted—from the sword to my Lord.’
Truthfully, her obsession had long since transferred to the Count.
If he disappeared from her sight, she felt uneasy.
If she was too far from him, her chest tightened.
If she couldn’t sense his presence, her vision narrowed, and she struggled to breathe.
At first, she convinced herself it was concern for leaving the Count alone.
She believed it was the compulsion of a bodyguard to always remain at his side.
But it didn’t take long to realize the truth.
Before she knew it, the Count, who had once relied solely on her, had Charlotte, Julia, and Yuri by his side.
The Count, who had been so vulnerable without her, now had a formidable team supporting him.
The source of her unease was no longer justifiable as concern for the Count.
She was simply dependent on him. Obsessed.
That was the unvarnished truth.
“Haah…”
She let out a long sigh.
How had she ended up like this?
Once, she was the untamed Sylvia, who needed nothing but the sword in her hand to survive.
‘This is all my Lord’s fault…’
For her entire life, she had believed she could only rely on herself.
There was no one to trust, and her strong, healthy body was her only asset.
Even after being captured by the Vermont household and serving the Count, that belief had only grown stronger.
When had it changed?
When had she started to think it might be okay to trust the Count?
To feel it was fine to entrust her life to him?
‘Ah. I know. It was the day my Lord saved my life.’
It had to be the day when the horde of ant monsters swarmed Ariente’s territory, plunging it into a dire crisis.
She had gone out alone to buy time and found herself surrounded, on the brink of death.
That day, the Count had come to her rescue.
That was when everything changed.
The Count, who was far weaker than her, who couldn’t do anything alone, and who always seemed to need her protection—had saved her life.
‘Now it’s the opposite. It’s not my Lord relying on me—it’s me relying on him…’
She had never felt the sensation of being protected by someone else.
But after realizing she owed her life to the Count, receiving his help, and coming to depend on him so heavily, the fixation had grown stronger and stronger until it manifested physically.
That was the cause of her current symptoms.
The trembling hands, the tightness in her chest, the shallow breathing—
This pathetic condition where she couldn’t perform at her best if the Count wasn’t near.
‘My Lord must have sent me on this trip to cure this.’
The purpose of this journey was clear.
With her condition showing no signs of improvement, he had resorted to drastic measures.
It was a perfectly reasonable decision.
But what if she returned from this trip and her dependency remained unchanged?
Would the Count keep a useless bodyguard who couldn’t function without him?
Would he strip away the mark engraved on her neck, the proof she belonged to him, and cast her out?
The fear of an uncertain future gripped her tightly, her pupils shrinking as the thought took hold.
“Director, we’ve arrived.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
The staff member’s voice snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts.
Looking around, she realized the carriage had stopped.
Lost in her musings, they had already arrived in Ester.
Sylvia steadied her breathing and stepped out of the carriage.
She could do this. She would be fine.
Clinging to that faint hope, she dove into the sea of her nebulous fears.
***
“I’m so worried about the Instructor…”
“What should we do about Knight Sister?”
“…?”
Charlotte and Yuri leaned against the window frame, sighing deeply in unison.
As Julia passed by, she tilted her head, puzzled by their behavior.
Who… were they worried about?
Had she misheard them?
“Why are you worried about Lady Sylvia? She’s so much stronger than us.”
“That’s true, but…”
“Is it because she doesn’t have her sword? Even unarmed, she’s insanely strong, isn’t she?”
“That’s also true, but…”
“…?”
Charlotte and Yuri trailed off repeatedly, sighing again and again.
What exactly was the issue?
Julia simply couldn’t understand.
“It’s hard to explain exactly, but lately, Knight Sister has been feeling uneasy. Especially when Mister isn’t nearby…”
“That’s right. Even when she comes to the training grounds without the Count, she seems different—more unsettled than usual.”
“…”
She hadn’t noticed anything like that.
Could it be something only those trained in martial arts can sense?
Julia’s expression turned puzzled as she failed to grasp what Charlotte and Yuri were talking about.
At that moment, whispers among the maids reached their ears.
“Oh my! There’s been a major incident in Ester!”
“Big Sis Maid! What happened?”
“Apparently, there’s been an enormous mana storm in the Demon Realm…”
“…!?”
The shocking news made the girls’ eyes widen, and Charlotte exclaimed immediately.
“What’s a mana storm!?”
.
.
.
“What? What did you say?”
“It seems there are people who haven’t returned…”
Sylvia was in the middle of removing her sweat-soaked armor after hurrying back to the fortress city from an expedition in the Demon Realm when disturbing news arrived.
“Some members of the western gate’s guard went to explore an underground cave and got caught up in this incident. They likely failed to escape in time and are now trapped.”
“…”
Sylvia bit her lip hard.
A mana storm.
A phenomenon where the dense mana of the Demon Realm condenses and sweeps through the atmosphere like a cloud, destroying everything in its path.
This particular storm was unprecedentedly powerful, capable of piercing even the most robust protective gear.
Hiding inside sturdy buildings was the only way to survive.
And yet, there were people who hadn’t made it back to the city before the storm struck…
“What’s their number? What’s the situation with food and water?”
“There are 30 people, and as far as I know, they don’t have any supplies with them.”
“…”
Thirty people, trapped underground without food or water.
This mana storm was expected to last at least a month…
There was no way they could survive in the cave for that long.
“Then perhaps we should wait for the storm to subside and call for barrier mages from the mainland to attempt a rescue…”
“There’s no time for that. If they’re trapped in a shallow cave, it’s likely some of them are injured. We need to dispatch a rescue team immediately before there are fatalities.”
“Your Grace…!”
At that moment, Archduke of the North entered, and the soldiers bowed their heads.
Being trapped in a cave wasn’t just a matter of hunger and thirst.
Injured individuals would have to survive without proper treatment.
And in the dark, damp environment, they would face endless waves of monsters around the clock.
They wouldn’t last a month—likely not even three days before being wiped out.
The rescue had to be attempted with the personnel currently present.
The Archduke quickly came to this conclusion.
“This mana storm is strong enough to penetrate protective suits.”
“Gather everyone who can use barrier magic. When one barrier breaks, the next person casts another. By repeating this, we can make our way through the storm.”
“Understood, Your Grace.”
With protective suits rendered useless, there was only one option.
Barrier mages had to work together to break through the storm, reach the cave, and escort the soldiers back to safety.
The issue was how many barrier mages were available in Ester…
‘Probably fewer than ten.’
As far as the Archduke knew, there were about ten barrier mages, none of whom were particularly skilled.
They might have enough mana to mak
e one or two round trips to the cave, meaning they could rescue a maximum of twenty people.
That left at least ten to perish.
Closing his eyes tightly at the grim outlook, the Archduke’s thoughts were interrupted.
“I will join the rescue effort.”
“Aslan Vermont’s bodyguard—or rather, now a Director of Vermont Security, if I’m not mistaken. You think you can contribute?”
“Yes. I was once an 8th-circle barrier mage…”
“…!?”
What? He thought she was just a strong bodyguard.
But an 8th-circle barrier mage—only two steps away from an Archmage?
The Archduke’s eyes widened in astonishment at the unexpected revelation of such a talent.