Before long, the day arrived for their departure to the Land of Chaos.
“Yaaawn—”
Dominic clicked his tongue inwardly as Lewis strolled into the Black Knights’ barracks lounge, yawning wide and indolent.
Lipstick stains were smeared across various spots on his shirt.
Word had gone around that Lewis had thrown himself into endless parties right before the march into the Land of Chaos, but seeing him roll in from a frenzied bender only hours before departure was something else.
Dominic hauled a uniform from the locker and tossed it over.
Just as Lewis pulled the tunic over his shoulders, Hugo stepped into the lounge.
“…”
Hugo’s disapproving black eyes lingered on Lewis for a moment before shifting across the room, searching for someone.
Natasha Rohmeyer was the only woman among the four Black Knight elites.
For that reason, Hugo intended to entrust the protection of the female expedition members to her.
It was a measure to keep this frivolous womanizer Lewis from slinking around, flirting, and poisoning the expedition’s focus.
Hugo clicked his tongue and strode out of the lounge.
Straightening the misaligned buttons of his shirt, Lewis turned to Dominic.
Through the window, Natasha could be seen standing a couple of paces away from a jet-black, long-haired cat, staring at it in silence.
It was a cat that had lived in the Black Knights’ armory for a long time.
From its bedding to its water and food, Natasha had looked after it more diligently than anyone else.
Under ordinary circumstances, she would have scratched beneath its chin and petted it endlessly with fond affection.
Yet as the cat rolled onto its back, begging to be stroked, Natasha turned and hurried away as if fleeing.
“…”
Watching the scene unfold, Dominic’s eyes clouded with unease.
It was completely out of character for Natasha, who adored that cat so much.
‘…Is this expedition going to be all right?’
Dominic could not shake his growing concern.
Ever since they were engulfed by that colossal, unidentified Khaos during the last subjugation, everyone had become subtly unhinged.
‘I’m not the only one suffering strange side effects.’
Captain Rihart was marching straight into the perils of the demonic realm all for the sake of a white-haired woman he couldn’t even prove was real or a hallucination….
Natasha had abruptly begun avoiding the cat she once cherished ever since returning from the subjugation.
And that wasn't all.
Lewis had always been frivolous, but he had never been the kind of riotous party animal he was now; lately, he seemed distinctly more defiant.
Vice Commander Hugo alone appeared reliable, but that only stoked Dominic’s anxiety further.
After all, he had been closer to the Khaos than anyone except Captain Rihart.
To outsiders, they might look like a formidable vanguard, but in Dominic’s eyes, it felt like standing before a powder keg that could detonate at any moment.
Lewis clapped a hand lightly on Dominic’s brooding shoulder.
Clicking his tongue, Lewis vaulted smoothly onto his waiting horse and spurred ahead.
“…”
His worries lingering unresolved, Dominic mounted his horse and set off toward the western gate.
***
‘I don’t even know how a whole week blew past.’
Concocting reagents, digging through research materials in the library, packing provisions.
Deep shadows hung beneath Mona’s eyes.
And today was finally the day of departure.
She had been informed that they would use long-distance teleportation circles three times in rapid succession to reach their destination on the western border as swiftly as possible.
‘To think the day would come when I ride expensive long-range magic circles back-to-back.’
Arriving quickly on imperial coin was great.
Yet because Mona’s constitution was unusually sensitive to mana flow, passing through a long-distance circle weighed heavily on her body.
“Whew.”
In the end, she retrieved Grandma’s motion-sickness potion from the pocket of her robe.
It was a potion her grandmother had brewed whenever Mona felt nauseous as a child, and the recipe itself was simple.
It just happened to taste… foul.
As Mona squeezed her eyes shut and tipped the draft back, the sound of a man’s voice behind her made her start and spin around.
It was the red-haired man she had seen during the second meeting.
A knight of the Black Knights assigned to escort the expedition….
Though handsome, his easygoing manner gave off an unmistakably flippant air.
Having walked only the narrow, solitary path of monster research her whole life, Mona found his type thoroughly unfamiliar and answered with stiff reserve.
Introducing himself smoothly, the man held out an open palm.
Since he seemed utterly unfazed, Mona handed over a small glass vial.
Right then, Lewis choked out a strangled gasp as Hugo yanked him backward by his collar.
…Told you it was awful.
Watching his complexion instantly drain of all color, Mona felt a pang of embarrassment and stepped into the gate as the departure hour struck.
The interior of the magic circle was a hive of activity, packed with expedition members and imperial officials.
Expedition scholars hurried to recheck their baggage, while imperial officials thrust documents forward, demanding signatures on various forms.
Signing the gate-usage agreement, Mona caught sight of Rihart walking inside and flinched, stepping backward.
‘…I should stay as far away as possible.’
Creeping toward the very edge of the magic circle, Mona pulled her hood down low and drew a deep, steadying breath.
A moment later.
Vrrr—
With the low thrum of violently churning mana, the magic circle sprang to life, and Mona squeezed her eyes shut.
***
The first relay point, then the second….
With each jump through the magic circles, the sickening sensation of her insides being wrung out assaulted her anew.
By the time she emerged from the final gate, Mona was utterly spent.
“Hork!”
Still, she was in far better shape than the expedition members who had bolted outside to empty their stomachs.
As Mona stood in a daze, looking pale and haggard, she met Lewis’s eyes across the yard.
With an ashen face, he shot her a weak thumbs-up.
It seemed the draught had done its job after all.
And in the middle of this widespread disaster, Rihart Cronel stood alone, utterly composed.
‘How can he look so completely unaffected?’
A Swordmaster was supposed to be more sensitive to mana flow than anyone else.
‘No, wait. If his mana core is immense, the surrounding ambient mana might naturally align itself around his core, sparing him the strain.’
Just as she fell into her habitual pattern of dissecting an extraordinary phenomenon, a harsh gust carrying the damp chill of the western frontier swept violently past.
“…!”
Reaching up to catch her hood before the wind whipped it back, Mona dropped her bag.
To make matters worse, loose documents spilled from the unfastened satchel, fluttering on the wind straight toward Rihart.
At that horrifying spectacle, Mona nearly squeezed her eyes shut in sheer despair.
