I couldn’t stop marveling as I held Athena in my arms.
Even though the sea route was geographically much shorter, I had still estimated it would take at least five days.
“Thanks. Still, let’s go even faster, even more diligently, Athena.”
But now, as Athena carved out a water path at an unbelievable speed, we covered a two-day distance in just a few hours.
Sharing the fruit Abraham had given us, I looked off into the far distance with Athena.
In this life, I won’t helplessly watch you die ever again.
Some might call me reckless.
They might say, like Ray, that it made no sense to go forward without knowing his exact location.
It was true that even after reaching the Kingdom of Itaa via this waterway, I didn’t really know where to go from there.
But I hated doing nothing, hated sitting back because I didn’t have a plan. That was what I’d done over and over in my past life—and I was sick of it.
No matter how unclear the path, sometimes you find the way only by walking it.
They’d asked what I would do after rescuing Yuta without a plan, but in the end, Ethan had appeared as a path.
Back then, when I said I had to go to the Kingdom of Itaa, they claimed there was no way—until Abraham stepped forward to help.
And so, without having slept a wink, when dawn broke and morning came—
I grinned as I hugged Athena tightly.
“If you just go, the path will appear.”
Far in the distance, I saw a massive wildfire breaking out.
“Knew it would be something like that.”
Crossing the border was something Zahid would have to deal with just as much as I did.
The Kingdom of Itaa was in a state of war, so there were all kinds of procedures involved.
“We really are a match made in heaven...”
Just as I had judged I didn’t have the time to go through those formalities, Zahid must have come to the same conclusion.
Unlike lucky me, who had Abraham’s secret water route, Zahid wouldn’t have had anything like that.
So of course, he would break through with brute force.
“He must have started a fire to distract the patrols and is slipping through while they’re scattered.”
I steered the boat toward that direction and hugged Athena tighter.
Then, with our foreheads together, I visualized the map I had been shown long ago.
Nine years ago, Zahid had shown it to me at the palace clocktower.
I had studied it so closely that it remained vividly in my memory. It was a cave, with a stream flowing inside it, and at the end of the stream was a small pond.
“While Zahid is clumsily searching every cave, you, the clever one, ask the waters here.”
“If there’s a cave shaped like that, a waterway shaped like that, a pond shaped like that...”
Droplets of water rose and hovered around Athena.
After a little while, the boat that carried both of us began to move again—without hesitation.
The Kingdom of Itaa was in the middle of civil war.
But that didn’t mean every region was an active battlefield.
The small hill behind the long-ruined “Temple of Memory” was far removed from any fighting.
It was well past noon, with the afternoon sun beginning to set.
Shadows fell between the broken remnants of the ancient temple.
About a thousand years ago, at the height of the Kingdom of Itaa’s power, Itaa had built a temple here larger than the Empire’s Grand Temple.
Now located at the border, it had once been the heart of a vast Itaa.
The Emperor, seeing this as a direct challenge to the Empire, immediately launched a campaign to subjugate Itaa.
After suffering a crushing defeat, Itaa was reduced to a minor border kingdom again.
Back then, the Empire demolished the temple grounds—which had not yet been completed—and named it the “Temple of Memory,” commanding Itaa to remember their defeat.
That’s the history of the Temple of Memory—near the border, without ever housing even a single priest, and serving only as a monument of humiliation.
“Woof woof! Woof woof woof!”
At the ruins of the temple, a young man riding a large wolf arrived.
The tall, broad-shouldered young man dismounted from the wolf and pulled down his hood. His face showed traces of exhaustion, yet he radiated a solemn kind of beauty.
That somber beauty blended with the ruins around him, creating a strange and suffocating sight.
“Woof woof woof woof! Woof woof!”
“You did well, Fire.”
Zahid Dyfenril patted the wolf with a low voice and slowly looked around with darkened eyes.
“This looks like the place.”
At the far end of the long-abandoned temple site, beyond the stream, a narrow mountain path led to the entrance of a small cave.
“Woof woof! Woof woof woof woof!”
Zahid pulled a map from inside his coat. It was a keepsake of his parents, something he had carried for a very long time.
It was bought with the price of their lives.
Though he had already memorized everything on the map, he still wanted to confirm it one last time.
Comparing a few landmarks made it clear—this was definitely the place.
Zahid began walking toward the cave entrance, Fire trailing by his side.
The map showed that the little stream outside continued inside the cave.
According to the map, the end of that stream would be a round pond inside the cave.
From his conversation with Aietar and Yuta, Zahid had realized that this cave didn’t exist in Arhad.
He remembered the moment he had been hiding in Yuta’s [N O V E L I G H T] wardrobe while being pursued, and overheard the two of them talking.
“Though we failed, I really did feel that child’s presence there, Father. That’s why I risked my life to go, even though it’s wartime. As you know, the lands near the Kingdom of Itaa’s border have high Romstone content, so divine power doesn’t work well there...”
I told you from the beginning—there was no need to go there.
Back then, he hadn’t thought much of it.
But on reflection, Romstone was even more potent than magical suppression stones—it could suppress divine power entirely. It was rare and hard to mine, which is why it wasn’t circulated widely on the market.
That’s also why, when the Temple had announced plans to develop a Romstone mine nine years ago, the price of magical suppression stones hadn’t plummeted.
They failed in the end, but still.
It was clear Aietar knew. That’s why he told Yuta there was no need to go to the Kingdom of Itaa.
It also explained why Aietar had been relatively lax with security in Arhad.
Zahid calmly walked deeper into the cave, one step at a time.
[Here, the Divine Beast and its master will merge, and draw forth their maximum power.]
That’s what was written on the map Rosie had read out loud to him nine years ago, in ancient script.
[But one must be prepared for the price—only the one who understands it will be able to pay.]
He still didn’t know what that price was.
But one thing he was certain of: no matter what it was, it didn’t matter.
Aietar’s noose was tightening, and it was closing in on Rosie.
If she was one of the thirty-two marked by the Temple, then it was only a matter of time before she was caught—and Aietar would only continue to grow stronger.
Zahid brushed his thumb over the two rings on his fourth finger as he thought.
I’ll do anything for you.
He recalled twelve-year-old Rosie, who had personally placed the rings on his finger.
I already pledged loyalty to you.
He could still see her face, sobbing in the rain, as she accepted his oath of loyalty.
Seeing those tears fall had made his own heart ache.
Because I love you, I vowed to protect you with my life.
He also remembered the expression on her face, recently, when she had sulkily curled up in his arms in a small inn room.
Just as he stepped into the cave—
Zahid realized something in a flash of lightning.
Fire, walking beside him, stopped as well and looked down at him knowingly.
[But one must be prepared for the price—only the one who understands it will be able to pay.]
He knew it the moment he stepped into the cave.
As the map had warned, he came to understand it instinctively.
Here, he would merge with Fire and awaken as the Divine Beast itself, gaining immense power.
And the price for that would be his life.
Once he released that power and destroyed Aietar, his soul would disappear—absorbed completely into Fire.