Chapter 75 – Extinction, The Coming (5)

A few days after her first battle, Liv recovered from her injuries without major aftereffects.

I hadn’t been overly worried from the start. She had always been mentally strong, facing challenges with composure. Even after being bitten by the Iron hounds, she fearlessly asked me about her father.

If she had begun to fear monsters or the sight of blood, it would have been immensely difficult to watch over her.

The real problem, however, lay elsewhere.

***

“We need to organize the patrol groups. Everyone, gather here,” Paris announced.

The group began preparing their weapons. Day or night, the forest was no ally to humans. Monsters that could hide every footprint and demons capable of piercing the darkness with their vision demanded constant vigilance to minimize casualties.

“We’ll assign times and areas. I’ll distribute maps—stay out of areas contaminated by miasma and hold your positions during your assigned shifts. Louis, you’ll go with Miss Melvis, and—”

“We’ll go that way,” Liv interrupted, pointing.

“Wait a moment…!” Paris protested.

“Why? What’s the problem?” Liv asked.

“Well…” he hesitated, clearly unable to express what he was thinking.

His concerns were understandable. Among the Greenwood Forest’s vigilantes, there was no one as strong as me or as adept in magic as Liv. Even within the Alliance, perspectives on us had shifted significantly after the recent battle.

As a leader, Paris likely wanted to deploy our abilities strategically. For a patrol mission, splitting us up would undoubtedly be more efficient.

“Speak freely, P—Paris,” Liv urged, correcting herself mid-sentence.

“…It’s nothing.”

Yet, faced with Liv, Paris seemed to back down. I asked him about it later, suspecting it might be due to her noble status, and his response was baffling.

“It’s just that she reminds me of my daughter. I can’t bring myself to be firm with her.”

And so, Liv and I ended up patrolling together. By midday, under the warm afternoon sun, we spread out a mat in a quiet part of the forest.

Using her newfound status as the forest’s most skilled mage, Liv had managed to wrangle some packed lunches from the quartermaster. She patted the spot next to her and said, “Sit here.”

“We’re on patrol,” I reminded her.

“I’ve already set up a sensory barrier nearby. We’ll know immediately if anyone approaches.”

“…”

I gave in. Sitting beside her, enjoying the rare quiet moment, I felt a wave of nostalgia for my time managing the academy store. Though it hadn’t been that long ago, it now felt like a distant memory.

“Ah, this is nice. I wish every day could be this peaceful,” Liv sighed contentedly.

“…”

“Louis?”

“…Ahem.” I lightly nudged her head off my shoulder as she leaned against me.

Liv was adapting well to this reality—this battlefield where she had to fight with magic to survive.

I, on the other hand, found myself drifting back to the war-torn past. My senses sharpened, my emotions dulled, and my focus narrowed—not just on the monsters in front of me but on the greater threats looming ahead.

The Lavierre Mountains and the Grand Canal.

The ending of this story was already written.

The Four Worst Evils.

The Knight of Forsaken Souls, Hekaten the Mad.

The Necromancer of the Blood Sea, Izareth the Dread.

The Empire’s Temptress, Antiope the Wicked.

And Carbius the Annihilator, who turned the Lavierre Mountains into a sea of fire.

These weren’t mere demons of exceptional strength. My comrades and I had never defeated creatures of their caliber without considerable loss.

To take down even one of them, we suffered repeated defeats, each time crafting unique magic and strategies to counter them.

We did eventually overcome them.

Izareth fell to Terra’s magic, Hekaten to Wiblet’s sword, and I personally killed both Carbius and Antiope—though the latter was later confirmed to have survived.

But history does not change. If Carbius appears, everyone here will die.

No, “fighting” isn’t even the right word. “Being trampled” is more accurate. To prevent that, there’s only one thing I can do: sharpen myself further and reclaim who I once was.

“Excuse me, I need to step away for a moment.”

“Oh…” Liv’s disappointment was evident.

With my mind clouded by worries, I considered the odds. Even if I faced Carbius, could Paris and the vigilantes handle the other demons? The Alliance would likely retreat again, leaving the forest defenseless.

How could I save Liv and everyone else? No solution came to mind.

***

He ran off again…

Liv felt troubled. The Louis she had known before seemed different now.

He was kind in ways he hadn’t been before and undoubtedly better-looking, yet he also seemed unnervingly rushed. She could understand—he had likely endured war far longer than she had.

But that didn’t make her feel any less hurt.

“Where could he have gone?”

As time passed without his return, Liv cautiously surveyed her surroundings.

When someone disappeared in the forest, the first concern was an ambush by monsters. But Liv knew Louis’s capabilities, and no enemies had triggered her sensory barrier.

As she prepared to stand, pinning the mat down with a stone to keep it from blowing away, she noticed a small girl standing before her.

“Can I eat this?” the girl asked, pointing at the lunchbox.

“W-who are you?!” Startled, Liv immediately drew her staff, aiming it at the girl.

However, the child, with hair as green as leaves, seemed unfazed and continued gesturing at the food.

“I’m hungry. Can I have some, Liv?”

“How do you know my name? And how did you get here…?”

Monster? Illusion?

Liv couldn’t tell. Hesitantly, she slid the sandwich toward the girl, keeping her staff raised.

“What’s your name? And why are you here?”

“I got lost.”

“Should I take you back to the camp?”

“No.” The girl shook her head. “I’ve already decided to stay in this forest.”

She stuffed the sandwich into her mouth, then stared at Liv intently.

“What about you, Liv?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Do you want to go back? To where you came from?”

Back to where she came from… Did the girl mean outside Baldur’s Nightmare? Liv hesitated, unsure how to respond.

She knew the forest was dangerous. According to the red envelope she had received from Mareile, no one in this forest would survive.

But—

If I leave now, I may never uncover the truth behind my father’s death.

The dishonor that had fallen upon Paris. The mysteries of the mountain range. Liv still had reasons to stay.

“No. Not yet.”

“Really?” The girl finished the sandwich in one bite and smiled. “Then you don’t have what it takes.”

“What?”

The next moment, the girl vanished without a trace.

***

That evening, Paris greeted Louis and Liv as they returned from patrol. Both looked far more somber than when they had left.

“No unusual incidents,” Louis reported. “We also repaired some of the traps in the forest.”

“Well done.”

“I’ll be going now.”

“Wait, Louis.” As Louis turned to return the map and leave, Paris stopped him.

“What is it?”

“You need a sword, don’t you?”

Louis’s feats in the recent battle had spread across the mountains. Since he didn’t appear to be a mage, Paris assumed he would benefit from something better than bare fists.

Paris placed the entire scabbard, along with the sword, on the table and spoke.

“This is a remarkable weapon—known as the Severing Blade, Mordred. It once belonged to the commander of a prominent knight order within the Alliance. I’ve held onto it, but I’ve never been able to draw out its true power.”

“What kind of power?”

“They say the stronger the user’s rage, the greater the storm it summons around them.”

Perhaps due to his gentle nature, Paris admitted he couldn’t unlock the sword’s full potential. Louis stared at the blade for a moment before letting out a dry chuckle.

“So, you’re saying my personality is a raging mess?”

“No, that’s not what I meant—!”

“I don’t want it.”

“What?”

Surprisingly, Louis refused the offer outright.

“I don’t need something like that to stay here.”

“…”

“It’s better if you keep it. I’d rather not see any accidents caused by introducing unnecessary variables.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The cryptic remark left Paris puzzled, but Louis showed no sign of elaborating. Rising from his seat, he spoke casually.

“If I ever need it, I’ll let you know. Is that all?”

“Yes… that’s all.”

“Then I’m leaving.”

Thud!

Without looking back, Louis left. Paris sighed bitterly, fastening the scabbard back onto his belt. Just as he was about to step away, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

“Excuse me.”

The voice was beautiful, familiar, and unmistakable. Paris immediately recognized it. Rising from his seat, he poured tea for Liv as she entered the room.

“What brings you here, Baroness Woodgreen?”

“Please, just call me Rev.”

“Cough… I couldn’t possibly…”

Perhaps it was because she reminded him of his daughter yet carried an occasional air of cold sharpness. To Paris, Liv was an unsettling figure—noble, yes, but also the most skilled mage in Greenwood Forest. Her visit could not be taken lightly.

“What brings you here? Is there something troubling you? If the open-air lodgings are too uncomfortable, I can arrange for a space in the barracks.”

“That won’t be necessary. Actually, I came to ask—no, to request permission for something.”

Her gaze was so serious that Paris, without realizing it, nodded. The tea sat untouched as tension filled the air.

“Go ahead.”

“Yes, then…” Liv took a small breath before asking her question. “What do you think of Louis?”

“What?” The question baffled Paris.

“What do you mean, what do I think of him?”

“I mean, what’s your opinion of him?”

“Well… I think he’s reliable. His origins may be unclear, but his skills are undeniable.”

“Then were you serious about what you said before?”

“What I said before?” He couldn’t quite recall.

“You mentioned that when your daughter grew up, you’d marry her off to him.”

“Oh, that.”

It had been a casual, offhand remark, but after Louis had refused the sword earlier, Paris’s respect for him had only grown. Louis wasn’t just skilled; he had a sense of loyalty and integrity. While his speech was rougher than most mercenaries, he wasn’t the kind of person to stab someone in the back when things got tough.

In uncertain times like these, with no promise of a return to their former lives, Paris found himself imagining Louis standing beside his daughter if the worst were to happen to him. It was a comforting thought.

“Yes, I suppose I’d allow it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Of course, I don’t mean that I’d arrange an actual early marriage, but rather, it’s a testament to how much I trust him…”

“Thank you.” Liv bowed deeply, catching Paris off guard. Her shoulders trembled, and her voice was thick with emotion. “Thank you so much… sniff.”

“Are you alright? I mean, why are you…”

Moments later, Liv straightened, her expression lighter and more refreshed. Finishing the rest of her tea, she adjusted her cloak.

“Paris.”

“Yes, yes!”

“May I ask one more favor?”

“Of course! Anything you need!”

Paris was ready to grant her any request if it meant wrapping up this bewildering encounter.

“About the tent you mentioned earlier—it is a bit worn, isn’t it?”

“I see. I’ll have it replaced immediately—”

“No.”

Liv’s face turned slightly red, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she looked at his stiffening expression.

“Just clear it away.”