Morning light filtered through the tall windows of the Continental Magic Association's central tower.
The throne room was quiet.
High pillars stretched toward the ceiling, and the vast chamber carried the same solemn atmosphere it always had. At the far end of the hall, seated upon her throne with the same composed posture as ever, was Serie.
Her crimson eyes looked down over the chamber with complete calm.
Standing before her were two First-Class Mages.
Sense, her long braided hair resting calmly behind her, and beside her stood a man with sharp features and cold eyes.
Genau.
Both of them waited silently.
Footsteps echoed through the room.
A nervous mage hurried in, stopping several meters away from the throne before bowing deeply.
"Report."
The mage swallowed nervously.
"Serie-sama… Shamrock-sama has escaped."
Silence followed.
The messenger kept his head lowered, waiting for some kind of reaction.
But there was none.
Serie simply sat there, her expression completely unchanged.
"…I see."
The messenger hesitated.
"That is all."
He bowed once more before quickly leaving the room.
The doors closed behind him.
The throne room returned to silence.
Genau glanced briefly toward Sense before speaking.
"…It appears the boy has left the city."
Sense hummed lightly.
"That seems to be the case."
Genau looked toward the throne.
"Should we pursue him?"
Before answering, Serie slowly shifted her gaze toward Sense.
"Sense."
"Yes, Serie-sama?"
"Did you know he was planning to escape?"
The question hung in the air.
Sense didn't hesitate.
"No."
Her answer was immediate.
"I had no idea."
For a brief moment, Genau's eyes flickered toward her.
He knew Sense had practically raised the boy.
If anyone could have suspected Shamrock's plans…
It would have been her.
But Sense's expression remained perfectly calm.
Serie studied her for a few seconds.
Then she looked away.
"I see."
Her voice carried no emotion.
No anger.
No disappointment.
Just indifference.
Genau spoke again.
"Serie-sama… should we retrieve him?"
Serie leaned slightly back against her throne.
"No."
Genau blinked once.
"…No?"
"He left on his own."
Her gaze turned toward the distant windows.
"If he dies in the Central Lands…"
Her voice was calm.
"…then that is all he amounted to."
The words settled heavily in the room.
Sense's expression didn't change.
But she quietly folded her arms.
Genau nodded slowly.
"Understood."
Serie shifted her attention back toward him.
"Genau."
"Yes."
"You will travel to the Northern Lands."
Genau straightened slightly.
"There is a village reporting unusual activity near its borders."
"A demon presence?"
"Possibly."
Serie continued.
"You will go with your partner."
Genau gave a short nod.
"As you command."
The conversation was over.
Genau turned and walked toward the exit.
Sense remained where she was for a moment longer.
Then she also turned to leave.
Just before reaching the door, she glanced back toward the throne.
Serie hadn't moved.
Her eyes were still directed toward the distant horizon outside the tower windows.
Sense smirked faintly.
But she said nothing.
And left.
---
Days later.
Far from the Magic City.
A lone figure ran across the open countryside.
Shamrock moved like a streak of green across the grassy hills, his boots barely touching the ground as he sprinted along the winding road.
Wind rushed past his hood as he ran.
His travel bag bounced lightly against his back, and his sword remained secure at his hip.
Despite the speed he was moving at…
His breathing remained steady.
"…Not bad."
Shamrock grinned slightly.
"Three days and I'm already halfway there."
The road stretched endlessly ahead of him.
Occasionally a carriage passed in the distance.
A few travelers glanced in surprise as the young boy sprinted past them at impossible speed.
One old man blinked.
"…Was that a child?"
Shamrock continued running.
He was enjoying himself.
For the first time in years…
He was free.
No lectures.
No training schedules.
No elf telling him he was going to die.
Just the open road.
His grin widened.
"Just wait, Serie…"
He accelerated slightly.
"When I bring back Aura's head…"
Then suddenly—
Shamrock stopped.
His feet dug into the dirt as he skidded to a halt.
His eyes narrowed.
The wind continued to blow through the quiet countryside.
Shamrock slowly turned his head.
"…Blood?"
The smell was faint.
But unmistakable.
His eyes contracted slightly.
Then without hesitation—
He changed direction.
And sprinted toward the source.
---
In a small clearing in the forest.
Bodies lay scattered across the ground.
Four men.
All dead.
Their clothes marked them as travelers.
Or perhaps bandits.
Standing in the middle of the clearing was a girl.
She hummed softly to herself.
Her dark green hair moved gently as she tilted her head slightly.
Before her…
Two men knelt on the ground.
Both were bleeding heavily.
Their arms and legs covered in shallow cuts.
The wounds were deliberate.
Painful.
But not fatal.
Yet.
Ubël smiled.
"You know…"
Her voice carried a strange cheerfulness.
"…you guys really shouldn't have tried to rob me."
One of the men sobbed.
"P-Please…"
The other man struggled to crawl backward.
"We're sorry!"
Ubël raised her hand slightly.
Invisible blades sliced across the air.
SHRCK.
Another thin cut appeared across one man's shoulder.
He screamed.
Ubël's smile widened.
"Oh?"
"You're sorry now?"
Ubël crouched down slightly, studying them.
"What an interesting word."
The man on the left begged desperately.
"Please… spare us!"
Ubël tilted her head.
"Spare you?"
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"You all tried to rob me earlier."
Ubël traced a finger lightly through the air.
Another shallow cut appeared across one man's arm.
He cried out.
"…Would you have spared me?"
Neither man answered.
Their silence was enough.
Ubël nodded.
"Yeah."
"That's what I thought."
Ubël slowly raised her hand again.
The invisible blades gathered.
The two men trembled.
And then—
A voice echoed from behind her.
"Stop right there."
Ubël froze.
The voice was young.
Childlike.
But calm.
Ubël slowly turned around.
Standing at the edge of the clearing was a boy.
No older than thirteen.
A hooded coat.
A sword at his hip.
His hand rested lightly on the hilt.
His stance was steady.
Focused.
Ready to draw.
Ubël blinked.
Then smiled.
"…Oh?"
She studied him curiously.
"And who are you?"
---
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