From the moment I was chosen by the holy relic

Eric turned to look at the soldiers behind him. The black mist had completely dissipated, but the air still held a strong smell of blood and kerosene. The soldiers were helping the wounded and regrouping. Despite their exhaustion, they had not retreated.

"You did a great job, Leah," he said suddenly, his eyes serious. "If it weren't for you, we might never have been able to open our eyes again."

Leah looked at him, raising an eyebrow slightly, but her tone remained firm: "You want to know how I did it?"

Eric nodded slightly.

“Well,” she took a deep breath and began slowly, “I found it strange from the start. Why was Senia able to move so smoothly in that thick black fog? His movements were not slow at all, and he even knew exactly where to go. Meanwhile, we couldn’t even see each other, and the light magic was completely useless.”

"Yes," Eric nodded, "I also felt that even though the Light Illumination Charm was cast, it was as if it was being swallowed up."

"The light magic didn't fail," Leah said calmly, with the keen insight of an analyst. "It just couldn't illuminate your 'eyes'."

"What do you mean?"

"The black mist not only obscures space, but also curses our eyes. It doesn't make us blind, but rather makes our eyes refuse to see." She paused, pointing to her own eyes. "Senia's magic is a curse. He allows the black mist to reach everyone's eyes, severing the connection between our minds and the light. It's a deep illusion; the real things are still there, but we can't perceive them."

Eric frowned, deep in thought.

"So how did you untie it?" he asked.

"Wind magic," Lia replied slowly. "You remember the match in the Thousand Faces Illusion? Eileen blew away the black mist, and only then could you see the enemy again. That wasn't just simple wind magic, but a natural magic that could tear apart spells. The wind dispelled the mist, and it also dispelled the curse marks wrapped around their eyes."

"But you're a healing mage," Eric said softly. "You don't possess that much natural magic."

"Yes," Leah nodded, "so I used the royal gift."

Lia raised her hand, her fingertips lightly touching the silver necklace on her chest.

The necklace itself resembled woven vines, its crystalline links shimmering with a soft silver glow in the light. The teardrop-shaped crystal at its center, like a dewdrop on a lake at dawn, was pure and clear, its interior faintly shimmering with a holy pulse. It hung quietly on her chest, like a witness to some ancient vow.

"The Tear of Purification: Those who wear this item will have a greater ability to discern the source of magical corruption in their healing spells, and will be able to cast Purification spells to cleanse the recipient of toxins, curses, or dark attachments. These are the king's own words."

She slowly lowered her hand and added, "To solidify the effect, I cast the illumination spell again. Only then was my vision truly restored."

Eric gazed at her for a long time, a deep respect in his eyes.

"Leah," he said, "you saved everyone."

Leah didn't answer, but simply lowered her eyes slightly and said softly, "I just did what I was supposed to do."

Her voice was soft, but in Eric's heart it was like a heavy sword landing, deep and powerful.

The wind swept through the cracks in the mine tunnels once more, carrying the lingering scent of war, stirring up dust and embers, and causing the post-war silence to tremble slightly. It was a tranquil yet tense silence, like the lingering echo of a bell in an ancient grotto, refusing to dissipate.

Soldiers moved silently through the ruins. The heavy footsteps, the clanging of swords being sheathed, the occasional whisper or sigh—all were the lingering echoes of this battle in the black mist.

Lancelot was half-crouched before a collapsed stone pillar, its surface covered with strange carvings and twisted magical runes, shaped like claws, as if they were the summoning seal of some dark god. He gently stroked the runes with his fingers, feeling a chill seep into his bones from his palm.

He stood up and looked back at Eric.

"These sacrificial marks," he said, his tone hesitant and disgusted, "what should we do with them?"

Eric did not answer immediately. He slowly approached a black stone pillar that still stood, its surface covered with symbols carved in blood and curses. The totems writhed and twisted, as if peering into his soul.

His brows furrowed deeply, and an undisguised look of disgust appeared in his eyes, as if he had witnessed some unforgivable blasphemy.

"Destroy them all," he said in a low but firm voice, his tone as deep as an iron bell. "Such evil things should not exist in this world."

He looked up at Lancelot, his eyes flashing with a rare rage.

"I would rather let the dust bury them than allow these eerie pillars to have another chance to tarnish the sunlight."

"Understood." Lancelot nodded without hesitation. He turned and shouted, "Destroy all the pillars! Use axes and hammers to smash them to pieces! Make sure no curse can ever rise again!"

The soldiers responded in hushed tones and stepped forward. Some brought heavy hammers, others battle axes, and the once-silent mine tunnels echoed with the resounding clang of blows. Stone chips flew, runes shattered, and black pillars collapsed under the weight of iron and fury, as if a ritual had come to an end.

Eric watched all this unfold, his gaze unwavering. A voice seemed to whisper within him: not every battle can wipe out the enemy, but at least the roots of evil can crumble under the light.

"There's one more thing." After giving the order, Lancelot walked back to Eric's side and lowered his voice, "Many of the mages who were rescued have regained their senses. Although they are still injured, they can speak. In order to prevent them from being secretly abducted again on the way, I suggest that we personally escort them to the capital and escort them all the way to the Emperor. They can then serve as witnesses to expose the atrocities committed by Kadir."

Eric nodded solemnly after hearing this. He patted Lancelot on the shoulder, his eyes full of trust.

"Alright, I'll leave it to you," he said. "If they can stand before the king and tell all this, perhaps they can uncover an even bigger secret."

He paused briefly, a hint of apology flashing in his eyes.

"I won't be going back to the capital with you. I received a letter from Eileen last night. She said that deciphering those words cost her a lot of money, but the work is progressing fairly well. She asked me to meet her in the southwestern woodlands of Diarant. She said... in less than ten days, the initial decoding will be completed."

Lancelot didn't press further. "Then be careful," he said solemnly.

Eric smiled, extended his hand, and shook hands firmly with Lancelot, their knuckles conveying a silent and unwavering bond of camaraderie.

"I feel at ease with you escorting me," Eric said.

"You're the one who's truly reassuring." Lancelot chuckled, then nodded to Leah. "May you have a safe journey and return soon."

"You too," Leah replied softly.

The wind was silent before they parted. They didn't say goodbye, but exchanged trust and blessings with the simplest handshake between comrades after the war.

A moment later, Lancelot led his soldiers and the group of mages rescued from the mine away slowly, their banners billowing in the wind as they rode off into the dust.

Eric and Leah watched their figures disappear at the foot of the distant mountains. The mountain wind ruffled the edge of his cloak and stirred the stray hairs on Leah's forehead.

"It's time to hit the road," Eric said, mounting his horse.

Lia remained silent, simply nodding slightly, and then leaped onto her mount.

The sound of horses' hooves slowly echoed as the two rode side by side toward the land in the southwest, surrounded by mountains and ancient ruins. That was the direction of Eileen, and also the place where their fates would intersect once again.

As the sun set, its crimson light spilled onto the mountain path and the knight's shoulder armor.