A week passed quickly, and the investigation team was ready to set off.
Roland summoned Barov, Carter, and Iron Axe to the castle, informing them he would be away from the town for two days. All operations in Border Town would continue as planned, following the established protocols.
Naturally, the three men unanimously opposed the proposal. Carter insisted on fulfilling his duties as Chief Knight and guarding Prince's side. Iron Axe demanded a hundred-man escort unit. Barov, however, argued that the town hall's decree required Lord's review and seal before taking effect, urging him to remain in the castle. In the end, he had to assume his lordly airs and demand absolute obedience from everyone.
"Your Highness, I don't understand what could be so important that you must come in person?" Barov asked, puzzled.
"This matter concerns the survival of the Western Frontier... even the Kingdom of Graycastle," Roland said after a moment's silence. "Only I can make the best judgment." "Can't you... tell us the specific reasons?" "Not yet, but you'll know one day," he shook his head. "Moreover, this mission is classified. You mustn' t disclose the information to anyone." The headquarters of the Devils might be stationed over two hundred kilometers from the Western Frontier. These Devils had once destroyed the Sacred City of Tachira, driven the Resistance to the continent's edge, and turned the Wildlands into a forbidden zone no one dared to enter. To reveal such a terrifying truth would be disastrous.
I'm fine myself, having seen countless apocalyptic films, so I've grown numb to such scenarios. But for them, this reality would be unbearable. If the news leaks, it could cause panic among the populace, potentially triggering mass exodus from the Western Frontier.
So it is not the right time to announce the truth.
After wrapping up their official duties, Roland and Witch boarded a hot air balloon, ascending from the castle's forecourt and heading toward the snow-capped mountains.
"Your Highness, if the Church truly stood against the Devil over four hundred years ago, were they good or evil?" Ever since learning of the Devil's existence, Sylvie had been consumed by unease.
"Of course it's bad," Nightingale shot back before Roland could speak, "Have you ever seen a good person hunt witches for no reason? If we were truly the Devil's henchmen, that would be one thing—but sisters, you all know witches have nothing to do with the Devil. The idea of evil demons devouring humans is pure nonsense." Her gaze remained fixed on Roland, as if waiting for his answer.
The latter pondered for a moment. "First, it remains unclear whether the Church is truly fighting the Devil. If they had made such a significant sacrifice, why would they conceal the truth and erase all past records? Publicly proclaiming this would be the best way to expand the faith. This question can only be answered once more clues are found. Besides, good and evil aren't so easily defined—it all depends on which side you're on." Roland smiled. "So you're asking if I'd side with the Church to fight the Devil, right?" "I..." Sylvie opened her mouth but didn't deny it.
"Divine authority and royal power are inherently at odds. Even without the Witch, I wouldn't have sided with the Church," he shrugged. "And now you're here with me." "Let me tell you," the Nightingale said with a smug grin, "even if the Church once battled the Devil, they lost—by a crushing defeat. If it were Your Highness, who knows who'd win? Why would you side with the defeated?" "...I see," she nodded softly, her furrowed brow easing slightly.
And so, as dusk fell, the group could already catch a glimpse of the snow-capped mountains' outlines.
"It's truly colossal," Roland mused. "Even I've seldom seen peaks this majestic. The surrounding landscape lacks any counterpart—like the earth itself has abruptly risen here, carving out a path to the heavens. The grayish cliffs dominate most of the view, and attempting to circumvent the base by land would likely take months."
The campsite was situated at the summit of a hill near the sea, offering a clear view of the surroundings. Its distance from the hidden forest also prevented wild animals from easily approaching the camp.
After finishing their dry rations, the group began setting up tents. Since hot air balloons have limited carrying capacity, only one large tent could be brought. Roland, demonstrating his noble spirit, arranged for the witches to sleep in the tents while he slept in the hammock and Maxi slept in the tree—after all, once she turned into a bird, she could even sleep standing up.
He realized his face had grown too thin to sleep in the same bed with the witches. Though Wendy and Soraya suggested they sleep in the hammock while Your Royal Highness slept in the tent, he flatly refused all their offers.
Only Sylvie kept Roland under a watchful gaze during the accommodation arrangements, leaving him in a state of bewilderment.
After arranging the night watchmen, everyone hurried into the tent. The uneven bottom of the hammock made it hard for Roland to fall asleep, so he settled on a rock facing the sea and gazed blankly at the moonlit ocean.
Just then, faint footsteps came from behind.
Prince turned around and was surprised to find Anna was the one who had come.
Back in school, whenever there was a group outing, he'd always look forward to the possibility of something unexpected happening. Though most of these scenarios ended in wild fantasies, it never stopped him from anticipating the next activity.
Yet when the moment finally arrived, Roland felt his heart race. Pretending to be unfazed, he raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong? Can't sleep?" "No," Anna replied bluntly, "just wanted to keep you company." "Is that so?" He cleared his throat. "Thank you." "I should be the one to thank you," Anna smiled. Silver moonlight bathed her face in a soft glow, her sapphire eyes seeming deeper than the sea. "Your words to Sylvie... Though she didn't thank you, I could tell she felt lighter." "Are you happy for her?" "No," she shook her head. "I'm happy with my choice." Roland froze. "What... choice?" Anna closed her eyes and kissed him. After a long pause, she whispered, "Good night, Your Highness." Was this what they called 'something happened'...?
As she returned to the tent, Roland stretched with satisfaction, ready to sleep in the hammock too, when an invisible hand cupped his face. Though the front was empty, his face felt the soft touch again—this time on the other side. "And me, Your Highness. Thank you for so much you've done for the Witch."