Morgus's words from last night still weighed heavily on Aria's chest. A saint's heart belongs to the nation. Your feelings are irrelevant. It was something she'd been told since childhood. She understood that. And yet—when she remembered how shallow her own tears had been last night, her chest stirred with unease again. The sensation of emotions slowly receding. That feeling hadn't disappeared even by this morning. In such early dawn, a forceful knock echoed from outside her room. "[serious]Aria, are you awake?" Even through the door, she could tell. It was Kale's voice. Aria straightened the folds of her saint's vestments before opening the door. Standing in the hallway was Kale, already fully equipped. His lustrous golden hair gleamed even in the pale morning light, and his burning golden eyes already held the complete light of the battlefield. The sun-shield earring on his right ear glinted as it caught the lamplight. Leaning his 185-centimeter frame against the doorframe, Kale's brow furrowed slightly the moment he saw Aria's face. "[gentle]Your complexion is poor. Did you sleep properly last night?" "[gentle]I'm fine. Is there something you need, at such an early hour?" Kale looked directly at Aria. "[serious]I need you to come with me to the front-line garrison at Verdana Plain today. The number of wounded has increased thirty percent from last month. The temple's healing ward can't handle the scale anymore." Aria fell silent for a moment. Verdana Plain—the granary region of southern Soltia Kingdom. But now it functioned more as a field garrison than farmland. Half a day's ride from Heliodor on horseback. A place where front-line soldiers took their rest. (To the front lines, me—) "[sad]Has it deteriorated that much?" "[serious]Yeah. Fifteen were transported yesterday alone. There's been continued skirmishing around Kalen's Bridge. Your power is directly needed." Aria met Kale's eyes. He was serious. Genuinely concerned for the soldiers. But at the same time, she understood clearly that the reason she was being taken there was for "the saint's healing power." She wasn't sure if she was happy about it. But there was no reason to leave the wounded people in front of her. "[gentle]...I understand. I'll go." Kale's face brightened immediately. "[excited]Good! Trust me, I'll definitely protect you. Let's go." Seeing that smile, Aria let out a small breath. --- When they rode out through the south gate of Heliodor on horseback, the morning air of Verdana Plain brushed against her cheeks. It was just before the season when grain would grow, and the vast farmland still showed mostly brown earth. But green was beginning to appear here and there, making for a scene that could be called peaceful. As Aria advanced her horse alongside Kale's, she glanced several times toward the west. Divine Gorge—beyond that great fault line lay Nocvel. Two hundred years of continuous war. "[serious]Once we arrive, I'll have you start with healing. I'll handle the unit reorganization. If anything happens, call out." "[gentle]Yes. Kale, um... last night, Morgus told me about the sacred marriage ceremony." After saying it, she didn't quite understand why she'd brought up this topic. Kale fell silent for a moment on his horse. "[serious]...So you heard I'm a candidate." Aria glanced at Kale from the corner of her eye. "You knew?" "[gentle]I heard the elder council was moving in that direction some time ago. I don't want to hurt you. But—for now, let's go to the front lines first. We'll talk about it on the way back." His tone left no room for argument. Aria nodded and said nothing more. --- They arrived at the field garrison before noon. From the entrance of the garrison, the smell was already different. Nothing like the clean white of the temple's healing ward. Mud and blood and the steam of boiled medicinal herbs for disinfection. Tents lined up, with cots packed tightly inside them. Forty soldiers, fifty soldiers—she stopped counting. "[sad]...This is..." At the temple, she healed around forty people daily. But this far exceeded that. And the conditions were far more severe. Deep blade wounds, fractures, curse wounds that had touched the dark veins. She realized that those brought to the healing ward were the relatively lighter cases. There were far more critically wounded who couldn't be brought here. Aria didn't hesitate. She placed her hand on the first soldier. Her left wrist's holy mark glowed. The wound closed. Next person. One after another. Around the twentieth person, that sensation began to return. The fog of emotion. Her chest grew hazy. Faster than last night. Joy, relief, all growing faintly dim. (It's coming again.) She almost stopped her hands. But in front of her lay a young soldier. Seventeen, eighteen years old perhaps. About Aria's age. With a deep wound to his abdomen, consciousness fading. She couldn't stop. The holy mark glowed. The wound sealed. The fog thickened. Still, she couldn't stop. The sensation of emotions being worn away was now terrifyingly clear, yet she couldn't stand up and leave the wounded person in front of her. She knew this was her worst flaw. Prioritizing others until she broke herself. But she didn't know how to stop it. --- "Enemy! A Nocvel reconnaissance unit—!" The shout came from outside the garrison when she'd passed thirty people. The inside of the tent erupted into chaos. Soldiers who could stand grabbed their weapons and ran outside. Aria couldn't move. She couldn't release the hand of the soldier she was healing. Outside, the sound of metal rang out. Swords clashing against swords. And then—light appeared. A blindingly golden light pouring through the tent's entrance. The radiance of a blade wrapped in solar veins. The holy sword Blizante. Kale had drawn it. Aria closed the last wound and peered outside from the edge of the tent. Kale stood alone. A dozen or so Nocvel reconnaissance soldiers surrounded him, weapons raised. Kale faced them all with his sword pointed forward, utterly motionless. His 185-centimeter frame dominated all the space in this place. "[cold]This is the rear. There are wounded soldiers here. This isn't a place for you to be." His voice was quiet. Not shouting. But that quietness was, conversely, overwhelming. The moment one of the reconnaissance soldiers raised his sword, Kale moved. A single flash. The light of solar veins traced an arc. Three soldiers simultaneously had their weapons knocked flying and staggered backward. The next two came in from left and right. Kale didn't move an inch, catching both swords at once. Metal shrieked. A sharp clang rang across the plain. "[cold]Leave. Next time it'll hurt more." The reconnaissance unit retreated. Murmurs, exchanged glances, then a slow withdrawal. He didn't pursue. Kale simply stood there, sword raised, until they completely disappeared from view. Inside the tent, a wounded soldier murmured. "[gentle]Captain Kale is... like our sun. When he's there, somehow it feels like everything will be okay." The moment Aria heard those words, something pierced her chest. Sharp. Painful. She was looking at Kale's back. Even as her emotions grew dim, that back alone reached clearly into her heart. A back that protected her. A back always moving forward. Since childhood— (I might... like him.) The words took shape. For the first time. Beyond the hazy fog, that emotion alone was vivid. Perhaps because other emotions were fading, what remained stood out all the more. No matter how much else dimmed, this wouldn't disappear. When the fighting ended, Kale turned around. His gaze moved as if searching for Aria—and their eyes met. She couldn't look away. --- During the reorganization, Aria rested in the command tent. A stack of documents lay on the desk. Battle reports, supply requisitions, soldier rosters. Aria tried to put them in order when—she noticed the seal on one document. A five-pointed flame crest. Elderath—the seal of the elder council. But the seal was already broken. It lay in the stack in a slightly open state. Aria's hands stopped. (Why would elder council documents be at a front-line command post?) She hadn't meant to look. But from the slightly open edge of the paper, she could see text. —Regarding the matter of a peace negotiation envoy from the Nocvel Demon Kingdom, no action necessary. Written in red ink, unmistakably clear. The date was four months ago. Aria carefully picked up the document. She read through it. A report about Nocvel sending a peace negotiation envoy, with the response marked "no action required." The seal of Elderath's chairman was there. Morgus Tein. (Four months ago. A peace envoy came.) It had been suppressed. Aria's hands trembled. She remembered last night's rooftop. Looking at the flames of the battlefield, she'd murmured: When will it end? Helena hadn't answered. She'd said it had been going on for two hundred years. A peace envoy had come. Elderath hadn't responded. That was the only way to read it. For four months since then, the fighting had continued, and today this garrison held more than fifty wounded soldiers. (What should I do?) Aria returned the document to its place. Her hands were shaking. She replaced the seal and restacked it. Should she tell someone? Should she tell Kale? —But. Someone might use it against her, silence her. If she went against Elderath, they could use the sacred marriage ceremony as leverage. The thought of the dark vein severance punishment crossed her mind. Saint Lina, a hundred twenty years ago, had received that punishment. She was afraid. She couldn't speak. Kale returned to the tent, and Aria said nothing. "[gentle]You're exhausted. Let's go home." "[gentle]...Yes." --- On the way back, the sunset painted the sky. Gold and orange mixed in the vast western sky. The soil of Verdana Plain turned red, and the shadows of two horses stretched long. Aria and Kale advanced their horses side by side. At a slow pace, both silent. That silence seeped into her body along with the day's exhaustion. Kale suddenly reached out and placed his hand over Aria's. Aria caught her breath softly. "[gentle]When I see your smile, I feel like I can do anything. Really." His eyes were serious. His golden pupils gleamed even more brilliantly in the sunset. Not a joke, not light words. Kale was like this sometimes—so straightforward, almost too straightforward. That word which had taken shape at midday grew larger in her chest again. I might like him. No—I like him. It wasn't ambiguous anymore. She searched for words to respond, opening her mouth. That was when it came. From the western plain, something arrived. A presence—not wind. Not air. Something that crawled up from deeper places, smooth and cold, brushing against Aria's skin. Dark veins. (What is this?) Aria immediately looked west. The plain stretched out, dyed in sunset, with nothing visible. But that presence was definitely there. Dark and cold—and yet mixed with something nostalgic, something that made her chest ache. Bittersweet. Frightening. And yet she didn't want to turn away. As if someone from over there was looking at her. "[gentle]Aria?" Kale's voice came. He didn't notice. He was completely unaware of this presence. "[gentle]What's wrong? Your complexion..." "[gentle]...It's nothing." Her voice trembled slightly. Even knowing it was a lie, she had no other words. Just as her feelings for Kale reached their peak, something entirely different pierced into her chest. Nostalgic and frightening and pulling her toward it. Two emotions tore at each other inside her body, and Aria couldn't squeeze Kale's hand in return. (What should I do? What is this?) The sunset beyond the plain slowly darkened. Though Kale was barely fifty centimeters away, in this moment alone, Aria felt impossibly distant. The two of them advanced toward