The sensation of her clenched fist still lingered in her right hand. During last night's watch, it had floated just a few centimeters, stopped, and then withdrawn—the memory of that hand. Unable to sleep through the night, Aira still crouched before the settlement's bonfire this morning, stirring a pot of lamb stew. Every time she woke, she tried not to think about it. She moved like this to avoid thinking. The Emerald Twilight Forest—the deep woods that spread across the southern foothills of the Jade Peak Mountains in the empire's east, where the demon race had dwelled since ancient times—had a particular quality to its morning light. Rays filtering through the gaps in the branches carved thin lines across the stone pavement, and birdsong echoed distantly. The air was still cold, breath visible as white mist. Mornings like this had continued. Peaceful and quiet, mornings where one couldn't tell if something had changed last night or remained the same. "Another beautiful day," Lilia said. Lilia burst out from the abandoned cottage's door. Her silver short bob was still disheveled from sleep, a blanket edge dragging behind her. The pale purple of her heterochromatic eyes was still drowsy. She padded across the stone pavement and looked at Raid from beyond the bonfire. Raid stood with his back against the cottage's outer wall, arms crossed, gazing up at the sky. White hairs mixed through his black hair caught the morning light. His amber eyes slowly traced the blue sky beyond the branches. Lilia observed his face intently. Three seconds. Five seconds. "Old man, your face changed again," Lilia said. "I thought you were talking about the weather," Raid replied. "It's related. I can see better when it's nice out," Lilia said. "Your logic is flawed," Raid said. Aira stirred the pot silently, listening to their exchange. Lilia was right. He had definitely changed again since last night. Whether it was the effect of the Emerald Twilight Forest's atmospheric magic essence—the magical power drifting through the air—continuously touching something within Raid, the wrinkles of fatigue had faded, and the heaviness of his movements had shifted. Realizing she was being observed, Aira lowered her gaze to the pot. "You were watching too, weren't you, Aira?" Lilia said. "I was not," Aira replied. "You were. For like two seconds," Lilia said. "I was checking the pot," Aira said. "The pot's not that way," Lilia said, pointing in the opposite direction from where the pot actually was. Aira said nothing. Her face felt slightly warm. She could tell in the cold morning air. Raid said quietly, "A noisy morning," and stopped looking at the sky. That was when it happened. The warning ropes strung around the settlement's southern perimeter began to ring. One after another. The sound of metal fragments and stones tied to rope vibrating—the same sound she'd heard during last night's magnetic-fang beast assault, but this morning's sound was different. Not sporadic, but sustained, multiple at once, and from both south and west directions. "Can the three of you hear that?" Calva came running in. Morning dew glistened on his broad shoulders, and his face conveyed the scale of the situation before words could. His eyes, which normally revealed no emotion, were faintly tightened this morning. "Simultaneous invasion from west and south. More than thirty beasts. And—their movements are different," Calva said. "Different how?" Raid asked. "They're not scattered. They're applying pressure from the west while creating a breakthrough point from the south. Beasts wouldn't execute such tactics on their own," Calva said. Aira was already standing. She'd forgotten about the pot. "They're being controlled?" Aira asked. "The Steel Corridor Brigade," Calva said. The Steel Corridor Brigade—an expeditionary unit based on elite regular imperial forces, specialized in anti-demon warfare. The unit of Brigade Commander Groas, who had previously attempted contact with the settlement. The main body of the imperial army that had been advancing toward this forest. Aira tightened the fastenings of her leather armor while organizing the situation in her mind. If they had the technology to guide magnetic-fang beasts, the brigade would have beast-control specialists. If they could move over thirty beasts simultaneously, it wouldn't be one or two people. This wasn't a repulsion—it was a trap. "Remove all metal. Iron weapons attract magnetic-fang beasts instead," Aira said. Golte relayed the instruction briefly to the settlement's warriors. After last night's incident, no one doubted Aira's judgment anymore. --- The southern defense line held for the first five minutes. Aira gripped wooden poles in both hands, deflecting the front legs of magnetic-fang beasts pressing in from the south, shifting their trajectory. A beast with shoulder height equal to an adult man shrieked and flew sideways. In that gap, two demon-race warriors threw ropes around another beast's hind legs and brought it down. "Can you really take those down with a wooden stick?" a young demon-race warrior watching from the rear murmured. Aira didn't answer. The stick wasn't a sword, but the way to move the body remained the same. The movements she'd accumulated as vice-commander of the vanguard of the imperial knight order, the Silver Heron Knights, persisted in their fundamentals even as weapons changed. The problem came from the northwest. "Western breakthrough!" Calva's voice rang through the forest. Raid was trying to compress atmospheric magic essence on the western side to seal the magnetic-fang beasts' movements, but the intensity of combat was disturbing the air throughout the forest. The Emerald Twilight Forest normally had dense atmospheric magic essence, but now it was fluctuating irregularly. Precision was dropping. "Damn it, can't read the flow," Raid said quietly, looking at his own hands. Yet he didn't stop. The pale blue scar on his left arm—the mark of damage from magical fusion—emitted faint light, and in the next moment, one magnetic-fang beast froze to the ground as if sewn in place. Not perfect precision, but he was pushing through. That was when Lilia ran toward the cottage. "Wait, my specimens—" Lilia said. Golte grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. Literally, the back of her neck, firmly. "Let go! My leaf specimens—" Lilia said. "Who goes back now?" Golte said. "But I just finished drying them yesterday—" Lilia said. "You can collect leaves again. You can't collect life," Golte said. "It took three days to dry them!" Lilia said. "Don't care," Golte said. Golte literally lifted Lilia and turned her toward the retreat direction. Lilia's feet swam slightly in the air. In the roar and smoke of the collapsing defense line, these three seconds alone felt oddly out of place. One of the settlement's warriors couldn't help but mutter, "What are those two even doing?" "Retreat! Run deeper!" Calva shouted. At that voice, everyone moved. --- The smoke thickened all at once. Fire was spreading through the Emerald Twilight Forest's trees. Whether from torches scattered by the magnetic-fang beasts or arson by imperial soldiers—there was no time to judge. Gray smoke crawled across the stone pavement, and visibility beyond a few meters vanished. Aira ran. Toward Calva's voice, avoiding fallen trees and rubble. Smoke stung her eyes. Her breathing grew shallow. When she tried to confirm her direction behind a fallen log, she looked back. Raid wasn't there. One second. Two seconds. She searched for a figure beyond the smoke, but saw nothing. She tried to call out, then stopped, judging that imperial soldiers might hear. Just ten-odd seconds. But in those ten-odd seconds, something ran through Aira's entire body— (I've lost sight of my mission companion.) She tried to phrase it that way, but it wouldn't fit. That wasn't it. Something more personal, more viscous, more cold. The profile that had said "that's enough" by the river last night floated in the smoke and vanished. This wasn't duty. This was— "Aira," Raid's voice came from the smoke. To the left. Beyond the fallen log. Raid's low voice. Aira ran before thinking. She leaped over the log, stepped on stone fragments, and ran toward the voice. When she saw a black silhouette beyond the rubble, her feet almost stopped before accelerating instead. Raid was standing there. He was coughing slightly from the smoke, but uninjured. His amber eyes looked at Aira. Aira's right hand reflexively grabbed Raid's sleeve. Hard. A motion that could be explained as prompting him to run. But the pressure of that grip was different from every moment she'd touched him before while checking his wounds. The warmth transmitted through the fabric. She noticed her own hand trembling. "Can you move?" Aira asked, voice low. Just one word. She still hadn't organized what this was. Whether it could be called romantic love, whether it was too hot to call duty—it was all still before language. But the heat in the hand she'd grasped definitely held something that couldn't be written in mission reports. There was silence. Raid said nothing. Instead, he gently squeezed the arm that was grabbing him. The pressure was weak. Not forceful or decisive, just a quiet compression. But there was definite will in it. A will that responded to the warmth of Aira's hand, nothing more. She couldn't question the meaning of that squeeze, couldn't interpret it, not here, not now. The footsteps beyond the stone door had stopped. In the chamber, only six people's breathing continued. The central device cast faint light, and the geometric patterns on the stone walls seemed to waver slightly in that glow. The ancient air of the ruins seemed to be waiting. Aira kept her grip on the hand she'd grasped. Raid kept his hand squeezed around her arm. The Emerald Twilight Forest was still burning outside. But within this stone space alone, time seemed to flow at a slightly different speed, in a silence like that.