The cheering hadn’t stopped. It kept swelling—chanting their names, stomping in rhythm, thundering like storm fire against the marble walls of Einhartturm.

  Vierna stood still. She scanned the crowd—faces uplifted, fists raised, some crying not with sorrow but with joy.

  And none of them looked disgusted.

  She had killed a boy. Executed him, in front of everyone.

  And they had cheered. They had called her name.

  Maybe it meant I did the right thing.

  Yes. That’s it.

  I’m not a murderer.

  I helped the town.

  But…. if that’s true, then why did my hand tremble?

  She looked down at her hands. One still tingled where the gun had been. The heat of the shot still echoed along her wrist like phantom weight.

  Leopold let the girls bask in the glory of the crowd again. The cheers weren’t just noise—they were chains. And with each chant, each raised fist, those chains tightened. This sealed it. Chosen by the people, sanctified by blood, elevated by spectacle.

  But even as the Arkmarschall watched them stand radiant beneath the sun, he saw what the crowd could not. Beneath the light—still—was a blade yet unsharpened. A girl, trembling. Fragile not in resolve, but in form.

  They had potential. But only potential right now.

  He knew Halwen would do his part. But so would he.

  That was why he let the cheering go on.

  After a while, Leopold raised his cane once more.

  The crowd fell silent.

  “I know,” he began, voice calm but far-reaching, “I said we are not like those from Rangdenfallt.”

  Murmurs flickered through the crowd.

  “But today, we deserve a celebration.”

  He let the words linger, then continued.

  “And in the spirit of resilience and rebirth, I decree this—”

  His cane struck the marble once.

  “For the next two days, all civic duties are suspended. You will rest.”

  “For one month, only the mana beast levy will be collected. No other taxes.”

  “Tonight, a feast. The halls of Einhart Manor will open. To all.”

  Gasps. Then cries. Then cheers. It surged anew—deeper, louder, with something more than loyalty now.

  The Arkmarschall was not only a Commander. He was a generous ruler.

  And they worshipped him accordingly.

  The Arkmarschall turned from the dais, his voice cutting clear through the final rumble of applause.

  “That is all,” he declared. “You are dismissed.”

  The crowd obeyed—not with the mechanical unity they’d shown upon arrival, but like people waking from a shared dream. Some talked quietly, others wiped their faces, many simply walked. As if the city had remembered it was allowed to breathe.

  Leopold let them go without another word. His eyes lingered only on the girls atop the dais, standing like newly christened saints beneath the still-warm sun. But first, he had another matter to attend.

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  With a subtle gesture, he beckoned Hauptmagus Rellgardt forward. He had commanded the wall during the battle. Brilliant, calculated—and above all, cursed with a memory that never falters.

  "Do your job now," Leopold said.

  While the Arkmarschall exchanged words with Rellgardt, Vierna was too engrossed in the aftermath to register what was being said. Her hand still shook, despite her heart telling her again and again that it was okay, that it was justified. Her head felt as if it might split, yet she kept everything inside, afraid of being seen as weak by the Arkmarschall, who was busy speaking with one of his officers in the distance.

  Murderer… Murderer… Murderer.

  The voice chimed again and again in her head. She pushed it down as best she could. She had only followed orders. But the accusing voice lingered in her soul all the same, and if she was honest, the accusation felt disturbingly familiar.

  She looked up, toward her new friend—toward Lina.

  Her throat was tight. This was it—the moment she’d been dreading since the boy dropped. Lina had seen everything: the raised hand, the execution, the cheers. The circle of witnesses didn’t matter half as much as that one. Would Lina still want to stand beside her? Or had something quietly snapped in place?

  She tried to speak first.

  But Lina beat her to it.

  “…I’m sorry,” Lina said.

  Vierna blinked. “Huh?”

  “I’m sorry you had to endure all of that alone,” Lina continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I—I froze. I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there. And then I saw you… reach for his hand. I didn’t understand why. At first I thought... you were giving up or something.”

  She paused. Swallowed hard.

  “But then I realized—maybe it was so he wouldn’t pick me. Right? You… you volunteered.”

  “He knew one of us had to do it,” Lina said, her voice breaking a little. “And you stepped forward first. “I—”

  “Lina, that’s okay,” Vierna said softly, the tension snapping all at once. “I’m just glad… you still see me as your friend.”

  Her lips moved again—smaller now, but sincere.

  “And like I said before… I’m glad I was useful to you.”

  Relief crashed through her system, hot and sudden like the first rain after a long drought. The worst hadn’t happened. Lina didn’t turn away. The weight of the public eye still pressed on her—but it didn’t crush her now. Because the one person who mattered most hadn’t stepped back.

  “I don’t want that, Vierna,” Lina said, her voice trembling just enough to betray the weight she carried. “I wanted to be brave. I wanted to share that burden with you. I’m done using you. I want you to use me too.”

  And just like that, the pact they’d made in that quiet, sterile room was reaffirmed—here, before the world.

  By blood and by a dead boy’s body, it was sealed shut.

  Waxed like a letter meant never to be opened again.

  The Arkmarschall had finished with Rellgardt. His cane tapped once to announce his return, and the warmth between the two girls folded back into the chill of command.

  “It was adequate,” the Arkmarschall said.

  “The two of you will attend the celebration feast. I’ll have something appropriate sent for you to wear. For now, you’ve earned the rest of the day. You are permitted to explore Einhartturm.”

  He traced a sigil, and a faint shimmer of light marked itself on both girls’ necks. Vierna didn’t ask what it was. She felt the tickle of magic settle into her skin—but paid it no mind.

  Leopold turned, gesturing to Halwen, who still stood frozen. The man blinked, as if waking from a trance, his mind still reeling with the horror of what had just transpired.

  “Halwen,” Leopold said, “I’ve granted the girls access to the town. You and I will now discuss the next phase of their training.”

  The Arkmarschall reached toward a faint rune near his sleeve. A flicker of light—then a small velvet pouch appeared in his hand. He handed it to Vierna.

  “Spend it wisely.”

  It wasn’t heavy. Not enough for extravagance. But enough for a warm meal, a trinket, or something soft to hold.

  Something that said: you’re allowed to want things.

  Vierna and Lina exchanged a glance.

  “I’ll leave you two to it,” Leopold said. “Halwen. Follow me.”

  And just like that, the Arkmarschall turned and walked away.

  Halwen followed.

  For the first time in days—maybe longer—the girls were left alone. No direction. No orders. Just the quiet permission to be.

  “Well… where should we go?” Lina asked, turning toward her friend.

  “I only arrived a few days ago,” Vierna replied. “I don’t know what to do now. Should we… go back to the facility?”

  Lina gasped, hand over her chest. “Vier! I know we love the facility so much right now,” she said with exaggerated reverence, “but going back immediately after getting a free pass to explore? We won’t meet any cute boys that way,”

  Lina said—then immediately grimaced. “Ugh. Gods. Did I really just say that?”

  Vierna blinked. And then, for the first time since the execution, she smiled. The old Lina—the one who joked, who teased, who could banter even in a blood-drenched world—had resurfaced. And with her came something fragile, but real. Comfort. Proof that her friend still existed beneath all the scars.

  “Besides,” Lina added, grinning, “I heard there’s something cool in the southwestern wing of the city. Let’s go there.”

  Vierna gave a mock bow. “As you command, Your Highness. The fair city awaits its Queen.”

  “Of course, my Royal Scribe,” Lina said, chin lifted in mock nobility. “Now come. Let us explore the glory of my kingdom.”

  They joked around—two girls pretending the world was simple again. As if blood could be walked off, and guilt could be laughed away.