I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

Enamel adhered to her arm, and with a simple downward slash, it easily sliced ​​through the wood on the ground. All that remained was to repeat the work.

"Never mind then, I don't know if it will taste fishy." Gerald could tell from the other person's words that he had never eaten such a thing before. "I used to have a guy in my team who was in charge of the food. He bragged that he could make a dipping sauce for nobles from the liver of a feathered beast. I didn't believe him, but the offal he made was indeed delicious."

He pulled the entrails out of the two feathered beasts' bellies, hesitated for a moment, and then put them aside: "I just can't make it taste like this. I've tried a few times and almost threw the plate away. It's better to just find a shop on the street and eat there."

Sigh, now I can't learn it even if I want to.

The cook, who claimed to be a descendant of Gauls, was once slashed in the abdomen during a battle, and his intestines spilled out all over the ground.

He didn't eat offal for a long time after that.

“It’s alright.” Saria looked at the pile of wood she had chopped off on the ground, raised her hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead, “I’m not a picky eater. Even if the food doesn’t taste good, I can accept it as long as it’s harmless to my body.”

"Are you really going to reinforce my preconceived notions about you, Saria?"

Gerald picked up the basin of dirty water, stained with feathers and blood, and casually splashed it onto the ground some distance away, letting it quickly seep into the dry, barren soil: "Can't you talk about what, uh, some, interests you have that don't quite fit my preconceived notions about you? If you can't even get interested in the three great desires, then I'm truly impressed."

Saria did not respond, but simply piled up the chopped wood and deftly lit a campfire.

There was no need to worry about the wind; the flames quickly grew stronger, and a warm orange glow danced in her eyes.

"If conditions allow, I would indeed like to eat some delicious food." She silently watched the flames bursting from the firewood, rummaging through her past experiences. "As for hobbies... makeup, does that answer your question?"

"...This seems a bit too satisfying."

Gerald paused for a moment after hearing this, clearly not expecting such an answer.

But soon he nodded, acknowledging the answer: "But to be honest, I'm not particularly surprised. I actually think you'd be the kind of fashionista you'd expect."

"Why?" Saria looked up and asked softly.

“Because of your hair, Seria. Look at mine, and then look at your own.”

Gerald raised an eyebrow and tossed the lock of hair tied over his shoulder: "No matter how fine the water I use to bathe, I can't achieve the same meticulous grooming as you."

"So it's definitely not something you did on a whim one day, thinking, 'Hey, I haven't taken a shower in ages, let's give it a good cleaning'—it just shows that you usually pay a lot of attention to these things."

He paused, pointed to his face, and continued, "People who care about their image will at least know a little about makeup, right? At the very least, they should know how to conceal blemishes."

"After all, you take such good care of your hair, horns and tail. It doesn't seem reasonable to say that you would sacrifice your image for efficiency."

Smoke rose in wisps, slowly dissipating into the sky with the wind, obscuring the expression on Saria's face.

Only her voice came from behind the smoke: "A very surprising explanation."

"Hey, I guess no one usually talks about you like this. Don't worry about whether my logic is right or wrong, the result is correct anyway, so just consider it as me guessing right."

Gerald tossed some plants used to remove the fishy smell into the pot, placing them with the feathered beast. He was about to turn around and find some wire to prop up the pot when he was abruptly interrupted by the scene before him.

His movements froze in mid-air, his head turned for a long time, and in the end he could only manage to utter one sentence.

"Do you like burnt food, Saria?"

"No." Saria gradually came to her senses. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because no one would burn a fire as high as a building."

He pointed to the campfire.

There, flames danced wildly in the air, rushing toward the endless sky with a wild abandon.

Saria silently counted the wooden blocks beside her feet, then glanced at the "remains" piled up like a small mountain in the campfire.

Silent for a long time.

--------

Fortunately, the attention of the strangers in the wilderness was probably drawn to the speeding Mansfield, and no one noticed the flames and smoke that suddenly shot into the sky.

The wind quickly cleaned up the scene. Apart from having to chop wood and light a fire again, the only difference was that the sun slowly returned from the eastern horizon to below the horizon.

With the clouds no longer obscuring them, the two moons shone brightly on the dark night, and stars were faintly visible in the wilderness, like scattered silver on the black sky.

Saria silently took out the bowl boiling in the fire and placed it aside. The rolling bubbles continued to rise with the steam, and the rich aroma of the winged beast broth mingled with the fragrance of the seasonings, gradually filling the air—even though what remained were just scraps.

In summary, Gerald's cooking skills are not bad. Apart from the fact that he uses a lot of spicy seasonings, there is not much to criticize.

Just as Saria was cleaning up the mess, a cold, cool substance was pressed against her cheek.

She instinctively raised her hand, applied the enamel coating, and quickly reached for it beside her.

With a heart-pounding gasp and a short, screeching scrape on the ground, Gerald instinctively dodged the attack.

“I was wrong, but I really can’t let you spill this stuff. It’s ridiculously expensive. Even the money I saved up with Cannot can only barely buy one bottle.”

He shook the small bottle in his hand, his tone tinged with heartache and helplessness.

Saria's spirits gradually calmed down as the familiar words were spoken, and her gaze shifted to the top of the bottle: "Liqueur?"

“From Letania, the best one.” Gerald found a boulder to use as a backrest and sat cross-legged next to Seria. “Perfect for commemorative occasions, like when I’m commemorating the first time in the last two years that I’ve tasted pure alcohol, instead of some dirty stuff from Colombia.”

“For example,” he said, taking out two glasses he had borrowed from Kannott and pouring in an amber liquid, “in memory of a certain lady. These past two months have not been in vain. Not only have you achieved the desired results, but you have also taught a student with unlimited potential—I hope I will not cause you any devastating damage to your educational career.”

She opened her mouth, but in the end didn't say anything that would spoil the mood: "...I believe you won't."

Gerald shrugged and silently sipped his drink.

The power of alcohol is intoxicating, but he has a high tolerance for it. Some low-proof liquors are not enough to get him drunk; instead, they make his mind more active.

After tonight, he should prepare to embark on his journey home.

Although there are still four months until the assembly of the four cities in Kazimir, two months longer than expected, there's no problem in heading back early. He can start dealing with some troublesome matters... and relationships.

However, before that, he had another concern.

Regarding the concerns of friends.

"Are you tired, Seria?" Gerald suddenly asked.

“It depends on what you’re asking.” Saria raised her head slightly, sensing the deeper meaning in the other person’s words, but clearly had no intention of answering directly. “I don’t feel tired. If you have anything else to finish before nightfall, I think I still have enough energy to keep going.”

“Everything,” he said softly, “throwing yourself in jail for two months, looking for clues, slowly investigating the truth behind things… You have a goal, and a very clear one.”

Saria quietly took the wine glass from the ground, her gaze fixed on the liquid swirling inside.

After a long while, she slowly spoke.

"I once made a promise to someone."

However, the words got stuck in his throat halfway through.

Only when the liquid in the cup flowed down her throat and into her stomach was she able to continue the story she hadn't finished telling.

Saria continued:

"I... was captivated by her dream and promised her that I would help her realize it."

"However, she has strayed too far from the right path, both in her thoughts and her actions."

"I must correct this mistake and pull Rhine Lab, which has gone astray, back onto the right track."

Gerald swirled the liquid in his glass, the sweet fruity aroma seeping into his breath as the alcohol evaporated, giving the air a slightly intoxicating feel: "You strayed too far... and you only found out about it before you left Rhine Lab, didn't you?"

"……Correct."

"So you decided to do it all by yourself? I haven't seen you mention any allies—not counting those in the cooperation aspect, I mean those who can share progress with you at any time."

Faced with this question, Seria could only respond to Gerald's words with silence.

“I’m not surprised.” Gerald shook his head and leaned his body against the rock behind him. “Just like when we first met, you treated me as someone who needed protection under the calcification. You mistakenly thought I was a pitiful person who was forced to go to the battlefield from a young age and ended up with my family destroyed.”

"Although I am delighted to be friends with such a noble person... from a realistic point of view, Randolph did not say anything wrong."

“The Vaivans are indeed an arrogant race, and you are no exception, Saria.”

“No, I should say you are the most arrogant of them all,” Gerald said slowly. “After all, what you want is to protect everything you believe in with your own strength—even if it means being shattered to pieces and bearing the sins for it.”

"But when I cross your line, you are objectively powerless to do anything about it. What if next time you're facing not me, but an enemy of my caliber who wants to kill you?"

"Can you handle this loss of control?"

“You can’t handle it.” Gerald answered himself bluntly: “You’re too weak, Saria.”

……

Saria is rarely criticized in such a direct way.

When giving lectures, she sometimes faces sharp questions from others; in the process of cooperating with the military, there are also many officers who dislike her; even some of her former subordinates have said cruel things to her.

But without exception, those people were filled with boundless malice and curses.

In situations like this, where someone is clearly well-intentioned, yet uses words to completely dissect her, removing the raw, bloody flesh inside, and then presenting it to her face, criticizing her word by word.

This is the first time.

Her lips moved slightly, and a bitter taste rose in her mouth.

The tip of the tongue touched the teeth countless times, but could not find a way out. The thought of speaking lingered in the mind, but the door to language remained tightly closed.

Until she met Gerald's eyes.

“Don’t think too much about it. I’m not blaming you.” Gerald chuckled and finished the rest of his liqueur. “At least from an outsider’s perspective, there’s a way to solve the problem right in front of you.”

"What is it?" Saria had never imagined that she was actually expecting an answer from the other party at this moment.

"Alliance."

Just like Casimir's silver spear and celestial horse.

Even if an individual's abilities are limited, when a team of Silver Spear Pegasus assembles together, they are the only reason that Kazimierz has been able to resist Ursus until now.

"To find a trustworthy ally, at least in my opinion, one can start with one person."

“A person who shares similar thoughts with you and is also involved in the Mansfield case is your former colleague.”

Looking into Saria's eyes, which were gradually falling silent, Gerald uttered that name.

"You should go find that lady named Himer, talk to her first, and while you're at it, go see your Ifrit."

"Let's change our next stop to Rhodes Island, Saria. I'll go with you."

Chapter 46 The Big One is Coming!

"...I don't know, maybe you're right."

A glass of liqueur wouldn't intoxicate Vivena's robust body; alcohol had a negligible effect on her, but ordinary drinking occasions wouldn't be like this.

Her self-control had prevented her from ever feeling drunk until this moment, when hesitant words slipped out as her nerves relaxed.

Bright lights and bustling crowds are the exclusive domain of the city, while swaying grass and a sky full of stars are the privileges of the wilderness.

Only after the lights of Colombia were far behind them did Seraya truly experience what the earliest cradle of civilization looked like.

If there is no one by her side... then only loneliness and darkness accompany her.

Thinking of this, Saria slowly braced herself against the rock behind her and stood up. She held the cup in her hand and gazed at the other side of the wilderness.

“I’d like to get some fresh air, Gerald,” she said softly. “Could you dispel your Originium Arts for a moment?”

Gerald then took a sip of his drink and snapped his fingers.

The wind nodded silently to its child, and then everything around began to flow.

The wilderness at night was swept by a fierce wind that was imperceptible to the naked eye. Sand and dust were blown into the pot, and bottles and jars were scattered all over the ground. Gerald caught the remaining liqueur, but the campfire, which had not been protected in any way, was not so lucky. In just a few breaths, the flames disappeared into the air.

Now, the only light that can illuminate her is the starry sky above her.

Even with no clouds obscuring the light from the stars and moon, every step she took was arduous. All around was pitch black; the desolate night made it impossible to see the road ahead or any direction, and the wind blowing in her face made it difficult to even open her eyes.

Saria slowly formed a shield in front of her using calcified material, moved her body in front of the campfire, and then slowly created a windproof barrier around herself, intending to start rekindling the flames.

The warm yellow light didn't reach her eyes... It seems some new firewood needs to be added.

"That's what the wilderness is like."

The sound came from behind her. Turning around, she saw Gerald covering her glass to prevent the wind from blowing sand into it and wasting the wine.

“As I mentioned before, after leaving Silver Spear Pegasus and joining another knightly order, my actions have mainly focused on reconnaissance and decapitation.” He enjoyed the feeling of the wind blowing through his body, and he didn’t care at all even when sand and dust stuck to his body. “So most of the time, what I see is the scene in front of me.”

"To avoid being discovered by the enemy, I can't start a fire either. The winters in Ursus are freezing cold, so even if I could block the wind, it wouldn't make a difference."

“This is what it feels like to be alone, Saria. Even the most elite warriors are unwilling to venture into the wilderness alone. The darkness will erode you, the silence will drive you to the brink of madness, and if you can’t find your way, you will wander on an endless road until you see the final signpost of your journey, which is completely opposite to where you were originally going.”

“The two are different,” Gerald added with a smile, handing the glass of wine to Saria. “Although you might make a mistake, at least there will be someone else to share the blame with you then.”

Saria took the offered drink, abandoning the idea of ​​rekindling the fire. The starlight overhead, though not very bright, was enough to make out the expression on the other person's face.