The morning was peaceful, almost like a cruel contradiction after the chaos of the previous night.
Elizabeth was still asleep, wrapped in the sheets. Her breathing was deep and steady, completely surrendered to exhaustion.
Lusian watched her for a few seconds before getting up.
With an unusual gentleness, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face and slowly stood.
His wounds burned far more than he was willing to admit.
But it didn't matter.
He had survived.
And so had Elizabeth.
That was enough.
He left the room and walked through the corridors of the governor's residence. Some guards remained stationed at the corners, fighting against sleep after a night with practically no rest.
In the dining room, he found some low-mana fruit, light bread, and meat from a mid-level bird.
He took enough to bring something to Elizabeth when she woke up.
That was when he saw him.
A child.
He was so thin that it looked as though the wind could knock him over. His cheeks were sunken, and his enormous eyes were fixed on the food Lusian carried in his hands.
He said nothing.
He didn't approach either.
He simply stood there, watching him.
Lusian stopped.
For several seconds, the two stared at each other.
Then Lusian remembered something.
Hunger.
Not as an idea.
Not as a statistic.
But as a sensation.
The emptiness in his stomach.
The weakness.
The desperation of looking at food and wondering if you would ever eat again.
Something inside him reacted before he could think.
"Hey..."
His voice came out softer than usual.
He tore off a piece of meat and held it out.
"Come here. You can eat this."
The child took a step.
Then another.
His eyes never left the food.
But just as he reached out his hand...
"Lusian."
Emily's voice stopped him.
There was no reproach in it.
Only concern.
Emily approached and crouched beside the child.
"You can't give him that yet."
The child stepped back slightly.
Emily smiled.
"Don't worry. You didn't do anything wrong."
She gently stroked his hair.
"Your body is too weak. You need something you can digest first."
Lusian frowned.
"Does the meat have too much mana?"
"For him, yes."
Emily took the piece Lusian had torn off and examined it.
"Someone in normal condition could eat it without any problems. But someone who has been starving for weeks can have trouble even with food that is completely safe for us."
Lusian remained silent.
Emily knew him well enough to recognize that expression.
It wasn't indifference.
He was processing the information.
"What you were trying to do was right," she added.
Lusian looked at her.
"Then why do I feel like I almost killed him?"
Emily gently shook her head.
"Because you didn't know."
She stood.
"That's all."
Then she took the child by the hand.
"Come with me. We'll prepare something more suitable."
The child glanced at Lusian one last time before leaving.
Lusian remained motionless.
Emily stopped before continuing.
"By the way..."
He raised his eyes.
"Don't think that helping someone was a mistake."
Her expression softened.
"I've seen you do it before."
Lusian remained silent.
"In my territory," Emily continued, "you gave your own food to people you didn't even know."
She smiled slightly.
"They were low-level foods, and I purified the mana before distributing them. The situation here is different."
Her eyes lowered toward the child.
"But the intention is the same."
Emily looked at him again.
"You were never cold, Lusian."
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
"That's debatable."
She let out a small laugh.
"No. You're just someone who has spent so long being strong that sometimes you forget how fragile a person can be."
Lusian didn't answer.
Emily didn't press him either.
She simply left with the child.
And Lusian remained there for a few more seconds.
Staring at the piece of meat still in his hand.
For the first time, he understood something that no system, no statistic, and no level could explain.
In that world, even helping someone could kill them if you didn't understand how that person lived.
He slowly put the food away.
Then returned toward Elizabeth's room.
One Week Later
That was all the Carpathian army needed to transform the city.
The soldiers repaired the walls.
Secured the entrances.
Established supply routes.
Organized patrols.
Distributed food.
And transformed a city that could barely stand into a defensive position capable of withstanding another attack.
It wasn't magic.
There were no miracles.
It was discipline.
Every soldier knew what to do.
Every officer knew where they needed to be.
Every mistake was corrected before it became a problem.
The heroes had also healed.
At least physically.
Their wounds disappeared.
Their bones were repaired.
Their magic flowed normally again.
But there was something no potion could heal.
Their memories.
Leonardo no longer spoke about saving the world with the same lightheartedness.
Alejandro had stopped celebrating his victories.
Kara trained more than before, but now she remained silent for several minutes after every session.
And Emily...
Emily had begun remembering names.
The names of those she couldn't save.
She didn't want them to become mere numbers.
Lusian, for his part, had returned to walking through the city as if nothing had happened.
His body still ached in places, but he never mentioned it.
He continued inspecting the walls.
Continued checking the routes.
Continued asking about supplies.
Continued keeping watch.
As always.
Elizabeth had also regained her royal bearing.
The princess who could speak before thousands of people without her voice trembling.
The woman who could enter a dying city and make people believe there was still a tomorrow.
But something had changed.
Now, every time she saw Lusian walk too far away...
she followed him with her eyes.
And every time he returned injured...
she was the first to notice.
The city of Varendor was slowly beginning to breathe again.
But no one was fooling themselves.
This wasn't peace.
It was merely a pause.
Because the monsters were still out there.
The phenomenon that had altered them remained unexplained.
And with each passing day, the creatures seemed to be moving closer to populated areas.
Lusian stared at the map spread across the table.
He had marked several points with black ink.
One.
Two.
Five.
Seventeen.
They all followed the same pattern.
The creatures weren't attacking at random.
They were moving.
And every route...
led to the same place.
The imperial capital.
Lusian slowly raised his eyes.
"So that's it..."
The caravan, now considerably smaller—many of the refugees had decided to remain in Harlon—began preparing to depart at dawn.
And as the last wagons passed through the streets, something caught everyone's attention.
The plants.
The seeds Elizabeth had given them barely a week ago were already climbing the walls, rooftops, and wooden beams as if they had been waiting their entire lives to find somewhere to grow.
Green vines covered much of the buildings.
And there were already fruits.
Small, glowing buds.
Some were the size of a fist, with a bluish hue that seemed to reflect the light of dawn.
Others were still tiny.
But they were there.
Alive.
Growing.
One of the priests stopped dead.
"It can't be..."
He approached one of the walls and stared at the leaves in disbelief.
"They're growing far too quickly."
Kara crossed her arms.
"With all the mana in the environment, that's to be expected. These plants are absorbing it directly."
She looked at the fruits.
"The princess chose well."
She smiled slightly.
"If they keep growing like this, this city won't go hungry again."
Emily, a few steps ahead, stopped.
Her eyes moved across the vines.
And she remembered.
She remembered Carter County.
The destroyed crops.
The empty warehouses.
The families waiting outside the temple doors.
And the people asking how much longer they could survive.
"That's how it started in my territory..." she murmured.
Leonardo heard her.
Emily continued:
"We couldn't feed our people either. And then these plants appeared."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"They didn't solve everything."
She looked at the fruits.
"But they gave us time."
Leonardo lowered his gaze.
Time.
A simple word.
And yet, it was exactly what many of those dead had never had.
He gritted his teeth and continued walking.
The citizens were the first to approach.
At first, they did so timidly.
Then more and more followed.
Within minutes, the streets were filled.
Men.
Women.
Elderly people.
Children.
Some bowed.
Others openly cried.
Many simply stared at the caravan, as if they still couldn't believe that these people had actually come, fought, and were now leaving food behind.
"Thank you!"
"The fruits are already growing!"
"My children will eat again!"
"May the gods protect you!"
Elizabeth slowly moved through the soldiers.
She didn't raise her hand.
She didn't give a speech.
She didn't try to turn the farewell into a ceremony.
She simply inclined her head slightly.
A small gesture.
But enough.
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
The princess of an enemy kingdom had just bowed to them.
The imperial veterans standing beside Arvian watched in silence.
Men who had fought against Carpathia.
Men who had lost friends to Carpathian soldiers.
Men who had spent years learning to hate that banner.
But at that moment...
they felt no hatred.
Not even fear.
Only respect.
Lusian walked several meters behind Elizabeth.
His expression remained impassive.
However, his eyes shifted toward one of the streets.
A vine now covered the facade of a small house.
And beside the door stood the child he had found that morning.
He held a small fruit in his hands.
The same child who had barely been able to stand a week ago.
Now he was eating.
Lusian stopped for a moment.
The child saw him.
He smiled.
And held the fruit up toward him.
Lusian didn't know what to say.
So he simply raised one hand.
A small farewell gesture.
The child smiled even wider.
Lusian continued walking.
But something had changed.
Not much.
Just a feeling.
A quiet relief.
Serene.
Emily, who was walking a few steps ahead, looked back.
Their eyes met.
She smiled.
She didn't need to say anything.
She knew exactly what he was thinking.
From atop the walls, Arvian watched as the caravan slowly disappeared into the horizon.
Beside him, one of his captains stood motionless.
"I've never seen anything like this..." he murmured. "More than eight thousand refugees arrived with them. Soldiers, heroes, nobles... all marching together."
He slowly shook his head.
"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd never believe it."
Arvian remained silent.
His gaze descended toward the vines covering the rooftops.
"And yet, here we are."
The captain looked at him.
"Governor..."
"The city wasn't looted."
Arvian pointed toward the streets.
"The wounded were treated. The warehouses were reorganized. The soldiers reinforced the walls."
He paused.
"And not a single person died through negligence while they were here."
The captain lowered his gaze.
Arvian looked at the fruits beginning to grow.
"They even left us this."
One of the veterans, a gray-haired man marked by decades of campaigns, let out a tired laugh.
"The Empire and Carpathia spent weeks trying to kill each other..."
He looked toward the horizon.
"And now they're marching together against the monsters."
He rested both hands on his spear.
"Wars, titles, the pride of nobles..."
He shook his head.
"Everything seems rather stupid when you're hungry."
Arvian didn't answer immediately.
He watched the children running through the streets.
For the first time in months, they weren't running away from something.
They were running because they could.
Finally, he spoke.
"Perhaps we've spent too long asking who has the right to rule this world."
His gaze remained fixed on the road where the caravan had disappeared.
"And far too little time asking how to keep it alive."
The wind swept across the walls.
The new leaves swayed gently.
Arvian closed his eyes for a moment.
"The rest can wait."
He opened his eyes again.
"First, we have to survive."
Far away, the caravan continued onward.
Lusian rode beside Elizabeth.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Until she glanced at him.
"You're thinking about the child."
Lusian kept his gaze ahead.
"No."
Elizabeth smiled.
"You're a terrible liar."
He sighed.
"I was just thinking that those plants grew quickly."
"Of course."
"It's true."
"Of course it is."
Lusian looked at her.
Elizabeth let out a small laugh.
And for a few seconds, as the road stretched before them, everything seemed peaceful.
But then Lusian turned his gaze toward the horizon.
His expression changed.
That feeling returned.
The same feeling he'd had when facing the chimera.
The Trackers.
Everything that shouldn't have been happening.
Something was altering the world.
And the closer they got to the capital...
the stronger it became.
Lusian tightened the reins slightly.
He said nothing.
Not yet.
Because for the first time, he was beginning to suspect that perhaps the problem wasn't that the world was changing.
Perhaps someone was changing it.