Leovild still couldn't forget the look in Ash's eyes. That quiet anger when they parted at the dungeon's exit. Those final words: "How pitiful." Even after a full day had passed, they kept circling through his head. (Am I the one who's wrong?) He didn't know himself. Tolka Square was bathed in the afternoon sun, filled with its usual clamor. Merchants hawked their wares, and men who'd finished reconstruction work laughed together with drinks in hand. Two years since the war ended, and yet this square alone seemed oddly vibrant. The smell of grilled meat drifted from Helge Muut's skewer stand. His stomach reacted, but it was more instinct than actual hunger. Leovild settled onto a round stool at the counter. A skewer was placed before him. But his hand wouldn't reach for it. He simply stared blankly at the fat sizzling across its surface. "Leo, boy." Helge stood with her thick arms crossed, looking down at him. Her ash-tinged chestnut wavy long hair swayed in the breeze. Her clear green eyes were kind as always—but today, worry flickered in their depths. "[gentle]Eat the skewer before it gets cold. You haven't looked well for three days now," "I'm sorry. There's just... a lot going on," "A lot, huh." Helge placed another skewer on the iron plate as she spoke. Her movements were practiced, without hesitation. The burn scars on her left arm caught the light of the oil, gleaming. "[serious]I heard from the other guild members that Ash hasn't spoken since yesterday. Something happened between you two, didn't it?" Leovild picked up the skewer. He bit into it. The taste of meat filled his mouth. But something caught in his throat, and he couldn't swallow properly. "...Ash found out about the blood contract," Helge's hands stopped. "[surprised]A blood contract... with that Soleas prince?" "Yes. If one dies, the other dies too. That's the curse binding me and him together," The noise of the square drifted distantly. Leovild kept his gaze on the skewer in his hands as he continued. "Ash says Solael should be executed. He's right. But—if we do that, I die too. So I have to stop him. But if I explain why I'm stopping him, Ash will think I'm taking the enemy's side," "...I see." Helge let out a deep breath. Then, wiping her hands on her apron, she leaned her elbows on the counter and looked at Leovild. "[gentle]And is there a way to break this curse?" "Officially, it's said no such method exists," "Officially, huh." Helge's expression grew thoughtful. Then, as if remembering something, her face brightened. "[gentle]Do you know a girl named Liebel?" Leovild shook his head. "She's a magic researcher—they call her a Versalist, I think—and she's a war orphan. But she became a researcher through self-study. She rents a small cottage in an alley in the western district, near the clock tower," Helge placed another skewer in front of Leovild. "[gentle]She's had a hard life, but she's smart, and above all, kind. I've heard she collects old documents on forbidden magic. She might be able to help," Leovild looked up. Something small kindled deep in his chest. Not quite hope—too fragile for that. But something, certainly. "I'll go see her," --- As evening fell, the western district of the royal capital Verdia grew long with shadows. The alley lined with half-burned buildings was quieter than during the day, and a little chill hung in the air. The crumbling clock tower stood two turns down the alley from the square. The bell had once rung, it seemed, but now the upper portion had collapsed, leaving only the skeletal frame. On the second floor, there was a wooden door. Leovild knocked. No answer. He knocked again. "—Yes, yes, just a moment!" A voice came from inside. Something fell—a book, perhaps, or a bottle. Then came hurried footsteps. The door opened. The woman who appeared was a head shorter than Leovild. Her light brown hair with a golden tint spread carelessly around her head, and a small star-shaped earring glinted in her left ear. Clear blue eyes looked straight at him. "...A knight, aren't you?" She—Liebel—looked him over quickly from head to foot, then tilted her head slightly. Her eyes were bright. The eyes of someone who loved thinking, Leovild thought. "[serious]Helge sent me. You're Liebel, right?" "[surprised]Helge sent you! Ah, that skewer woman... so it was Helge," Liebel opened the door wide. The room inside was overwhelming at first glance. Books were stacked everywhere. On the desk, on the floor, on the windowsill. Medicine bottles were wedged into gaps, and bundles of parchment were scattered about. The smell of mold and old paper hung in the air. "Please, come in. It's cramped, but..." "[serious]I heard you research blood contracts," Liebel's eyes suddenly brightened. "[excited]Blood contracts! The most forbidden of all forbidden magic. Zekt Blüte—a curse technique that binds two souls together using blood as a catalyst. There's no official method of breaking it, but I've been collecting old documents bit by bit..." She spoke quickly. But not unpleasantly so. It was the speed of someone talking about something they loved. "[serious]I'm one of the parties involved," Liebel's words stopped. "—Huh?" "I'm bound by blood contract with someone. I'm looking for a way to break it," Silence stretched between them. Liebel stared at Leovild. Her blue eyes slowly shifted to a serious color. "[serious]...I understand. Let's investigate together tonight," "You'll help me?" "[excited]I can't overlook such a valuable case as a researcher!" She added something after, a little embarrassed. "[gentle]...Of course, I also can't just leave someone in trouble," For the first time in a while, Leovild felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. --- That night, Leovild brought Solael to Liebel's cottage. It was against regulations. He knew that. But he was already unable to move within the rules. He'd taken the dungeon key, hidden Solael's chains beneath his cloak, and walked through the night streets. Solael said nothing. He simply followed silently behind Leovild. His silver-white long hair swayed in the night breeze. His star-like pale blue eyes quietly observed Verdia's nightscape. When Leovild knocked on Liebel's cottage door, it opened immediately. She stood waiting with a lamp in hand. The moment she saw Solael, Liebel's eyes widened. (Of course. The distinctive features of the former Soleas royal family—the luminous eyes—were unmistakable to anyone who knew.) But Liebel didn't say anything unnecessary. "[gentle]Please, come in. It's cramped, but..." Solael glanced around the room. The stacked books. The medicine bottles. The dim light. His mouth twisted slightly. "[cold]Pointless. A curse that hasn't been broken in centuries won't be solved in a place like this—" "[serious]If you give up, it really will be over," Solael looked at her. Liebel didn't flinch. Her blue eyes met the silver-haired prince's gaze steadily, without fear. "It's true that I only have fragmentary materials. But that doesn't mean a solution doesn't exist. I—" Liebel reached toward the mountain of stacked books and pulled out a thick bundle of parchment. "—haven't given up yet," Solael said nothing. But he quietly lowered himself onto a small round stool. It was, in his own way, consent. The three of them began their investigation. Liebel spread out the materials and explained as she turned the pages. Leovild listened beside her. Solael leaned in from slightly behind. "The oldest record of blood contracts is from over 800 years ago, and the origin of the technique is unknown. The activation conditions are documented—the blood of both parties and a specific magic circle—but the descriptions of how to break it are fragmentary in every source..." Liebel's voice continued. The lamp flame flickered. Leovild glanced at Solael's profile. The silver-haired prince's eyes were serious as he followed the text. Despite saying it was "pointless," his gaze never left the pages. (He's... hoping, isn't he?) The moment that thought crossed his mind, something stirred strangely in his chest. Leovild hurriedly returned his gaze to the materials before him. Liebel's hand stopped. "—Ah." A small sound. But it changed the air entirely. Liebel's finger pointed to a passage in the parchment. The writing was old. Faded, difficult to read. But it was unmistakably there. "[scared]...This," Liebel's hand was trembling. Leovild leaned forward. Solael too, unconsciously moved closer. Three pairs of eyes converged on the same line. ——"The Breaking of the Blood Contract Requires the Blood of the Caster" Silence fell. The lamp crackled softly. "[surprised]The caster's blood... so we need the blood of whoever cursed us in the first place?" "[serious]That's what it means," Solael's expression changed. Not anger, not despair. Something else. A calculating coldness. "[serious]Then we must first determine who the caster is," "[serious]Yes. But—this is also hope," Liebel looked at both of them. Her blue eyes, catching the lamplight, shone with clarity. "[serious]A path to breaking the curse exists. We confirmed that tonight. Zero and one are different," Leovild slowly absorbed those words. Not zero. A path to breaking it exists. ——But. Who was the caster? Why had he and Solael been chosen? Those answers remained unknown. They stood only at the threshold of mystery. "[serious]There's no information about the caster in these materials. We need to investigate further," The three of them continued reading through the night. Liebel stifled yawns as she turned pages. Leovild kept following the text. Solael remained silent as always, but occasionally held the edge of a page or let his gaze fall to Liebel's hands. Deep into the night, Leovild finally stood. It was time to return Solael to the garrison. "[gentle]Thank you, Liebel. I never would have found these materials on my own," Liebel smiled, a little embarrassed. Her earring glinted in the lamplight. "[gentle]I lost my entire family in the war and have been alone ever since. That's why I can't ignore someone in trouble. Don't worry about it," "Still—" Leovild tried to continue but found no words. So he simply nodded. Solael stood. He put on his cloak. He started toward the door—then stopped. He looked out the window. The night of the royal capital Verdia. Beyond the buildings under reconstruction, stars glimmered. Leovild found himself idly wondering what the arrangement of stars tonight meant in Soleas's astral faith. Solael spoke softly. "[whispers]...Hope, then," In that voice lay the weight of centuries of accumulated resignation. But—something else was mixed in. Leovild looked at his profile. The prince's pale blue eyes reflected the stars beyond the window. The mouth that had said "pointless" was now closed, quiet. (He hasn't... given up either, has he?) The moment that realization struck, something stirred in his chest again. That same sensation as before. Leovild looked away. "[gentle]Please come again. We'll find the answer for certain," Liebel called after them as she saw the two off. Her voice echoed quietly through the late-night alley. The two walked side by side across the night-darkened stone pavement. Solael said nothing. Leovild said nothing. Who was the caster? Why had they been chosen? That mystery remained completely unsolved by tonight's investigation. If anything, the mystery had deepened, and the darkness seemed all the more profound. But—a path to breaking the curse existed. Leovild looked down at his left wrist. The magic mark glowed faintly blue. The night continued, quietly.