She woke up with the icy air on her face. Gyne was gently stroking the skin of her cheek, asking her to keep resting. She questioned what had happened; he briefly explained that he had found her unconscious and carried her to the castle.
Upon hearing her younger brother's words, Carolina took his hands and pressed them against her face, apologizing for causing him trouble. He denied any effort, saying he was only seeking an answer.
What happened to the woman who was with her?
When it was explained, Gyne pulled away, clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and asked for a moment. She tried to call him, but the boy had already left.
In front of the wall, the boy grabbed his weapon and struck it against the stone repeatedly. He shouted, demanding an explanation for such betrayal, but no voice answered in return.
He collapsed to the ground, pounding his fists against the rocky floor, lamenting, comparing her to the soldiers who had tried to invade their land. Yet even his contempt received no response.
As he left, the governess was waiting for him. Her hands clasped in front of her waist, nails digging into her skirt, eyes lowered, avoiding direct contact. She recognized his unhappiness, the injustice, his feelings…
And she felt the same. And the worst of those feelings was being unable to do anything. She didn't know how to fight, she had no Mana Liberator, she was merely a servant to her queen and the young master.
The boy remained silent while listening to her, but when he heard the term referring to magic, his eyes widened and he strode past the governess with a determined look.
She froze, her hand clutching her chest as if feeling ignorance, yet when she remembered the word she had said, she tried to follow him.
Rita tried to warn him several times, but the boy said he would no longer stand by with folded arms, that he would no longer be just the queen's brother…
…but the one who would protect the queen and the kingdom from all evil.
When she saw him enter the room, Carolina sat up and asked her brother to listen to her. He refused.
Her plea met no reaction, but her eyes said everything. He explained all he felt and, even though it was dangerous, asked her to awaken his Mana Liberator.
But she, just as he had done, denied permission. She argued about the dangers, dangers that even she, who had faced so many battles, did not fully master. And he, apologizing for disobeying her, said that at that moment he could no longer be protected by his sister; it was time to repay her.
And so he left again. Carolina lowered her hands, eyes squeezing shut tightly, silently begging Zyrionq to have mercy on Gyne.
Standing among the armed soldiers, all eyes turned to the boy. When they heard his order, they tried to argue, but the young one gave them no chance to stop him.
On the field outside the kingdom, the boy positioned himself on the highest hill and launched wooden arrows while he himself remained with a sword of the same material. The soldiers present moved their weapons to a distance and readied their bows.
At his command, the arrows flew.
The boy was fast, deflecting the arrows with precision. However, the soldiers, as he had ordered, were relentless and experienced. The arrows struck him, piercing flesh and skin, but the boy demanded they show no mercy.
Soldiers retreated as he approached, and Gyne's body was met with more and more arrows.
Yet the men noticed small transparent fragments pushing the arrows away. They continued the attack, the boy knocked down a few soldiers who kept firing, until the moment came when, with one final arrow about to hit him, a barrier formed.
What had once been moans mixed with determination turned into silence. The soldiers stopped, lowered their weapons, and called his name, but there was no response.
They called for the queen, who fell to her knees at the sight. In her mind, images of the dictator trying to turn her into the perfect soldier flooded her vision. She touched the ice, begging her boy to answer her call, but nothing came. Her forehead pressed against the barrier, fingers caressing the material until it began to burn her skin.
Her voice grew low, her breathing deeper, almost fragile. She asked, one last time, to be answered.
And, like a shell cracking open, the ice shattered and fell away. The soldiers approached, ready, but the sight revealed itself.
The once-humble sword had become a great blade of ice. And the body, previously helpless and wounded, was now intact. The arms, once bare, were now surrounded by a barrier that protected him, though it soon dissolved.
His breathing, which once came out in puffs of vapor, was now cold. But the warmth in his voice celebrated his victory to his sister.