Kaster stifled a yawn.
He tilted his head back, gazing out at the pitch-black forest stretching before him. A cool breeze drifted through the treetops, rustling the leaves with a soft, soothing sound. It was the kind of night that lulled one into a peaceful sleep and sweet dreams. But here he was, patrolling the woods with his men, torches held high. On any other night, Kaster would have been grumbling nonstop, but tonight his face was set in a determined scowl, a flicker of pride and excitement burning in his eyes.
"Alright, everyone—take five, then we head back the way we came!"
His gaze drifted toward the faint glimmers of light flickering on the plains beyond the forest. Kaster cleared his throat loudly and barked out the order.
Ever since returning from the Zach family's territory, Kaster had reclaimed his men, completely renounced his allegiance to the Byrd family, and pledged his loyalty to Blake. Of course, not everyone had taken the news well. The guards who had accompanied Kaster to the Zach lands knew full well the extent of Blake's power and had obeyed their captain without hesitation—none of them wanted to end up on the wrong side of a High-Rank Swordsman. But the men who had stayed behind, who hadn't witnessed Blake's strength firsthand, were a different story. Though many of them were skeptical of the seemingly preposterous tales, the earnest persuasion of their comrades had sown seeds of doubt in their minds. These were men they'd fought and laughed alongside for years—surely they wouldn't lie to them.
In the end, the entire garrison that Viscount Wen had sent to stir up trouble in the Twilight Forest had defected to Blake's side, becoming his personal retinue. Viscount Wen had been forced to accept the outcome with gritted teeth. Even so, life hadn't been easy for these former Byrd soldiers.
Blake had rewarded each man who chose to stay with a generous stipend, but men didn't live on coin alone—pride mattered too. No amount of gold could soften the sting of humiliation. And that was precisely the predicament Kaster and his men found themselves in.
Within the Twilight Forest itself, they faced no cold stares or prejudice. But as garrison soldiers, their duties required them to patrol the forest's outer borders, where they inevitably crossed paths with the Byrd family's own guards. On those occasions, mockery was unavoidable. Kaster had served the Byrds for years; he had his fair share of friends and enemies among their ranks. The Byrd soldiers never missed a chance to sneer at him, jeering that a seasoned captain like him had stooped to serving a young upstart with no proper title to his name. It was laughable, they said, that he'd trade the comforts of the plains for the desolate wilderness of the Twilight Forest. Only a fool would choose hardship over prosperity.
At first, these taunts had rankled deeply. Some of Kaster's men had tried to defend their choice, arguing that their new lord was a High-Rank Swordsman and that serving him was no disgrace. But their former comrades had only scoffed louder. A High-Rank Swordsman? If he were truly that powerful, why would he waste his time playing lord in this godforsaken forest? They'd told Kaster's men to come up with a better lie next time.
Back and forth the arguments had gone, leaving Kaster's men frustrated and demoralized. They knew they were telling the truth, but their words had fallen on deaf ears.
But everything had changed after the Midsummer Festival.
The same Byrd soldiers who had once looked at them with arrogance and disdain now eyed them with a potent mix of envy and resentment. Some even sneaked over to the Twilight Forest's outposts when their officers weren't looking, eager to ask about their new lord. It was then that Kaster and his men learned about Messia and Semia. The tournament held in the square that day had become the talk of the entire Byrd domain. Two little girls, barely ten years old, and already High-Rank Swordsmen—their strength was the stuff of legend. Overnight, everyone from the highest nobles to the lowliest peasants in the Byrd lands knew the truth: three High-Rank Swordsmen resided in the Twilight Forest on their borders.
For the nobles, this revelation had sparked all sorts of complicated schemes and calculations. But for the common soldiers, the matter was simple. They fought for pay, serving whichever lord signed their coin purses. But soldiers were human too—they wanted to serve under a powerful, capable leader. It meant a far better chance of survival on the battlefield. And in the entire Byrd domain, there was no one more formidable than a High-Rank Swordsman.
Moreover, soldiers were warriors at heart. Warriors revered those who stood at the pinnacle of martial prowess. Knights were distant figures, almost mythical—objects of admiration, but far removed from their daily lives. High-Rank Swordsmen, however, were different. They commanded the same respect, but they were also a tangible goal—something a warrior could strive to achieve, unlike the elusive rank of knight.
In the blink of an eye, the decision that everyone had mocked as foolish was now hailed as a stroke of brilliant foresight. It wasn't just the rank-and-file soldiers who were having second thoughts. Just a few days prior, a senior cavalry captain Kaster knew had come calling, beating around the bush to ask if the Twilight Forest was recruiting more men. Before leaving, he'd even promised that as long as he was in command, the forest's outer borders would be safe from trouble.
This dramatic shift in fortunes had done wonders for Kaster and his men's morale. Now, they threw themselves into their duties with renewed vigor. In the Byrd domain, they had been just one garrison among many. But in the Twilight Forest, they were the sole defenders of the realm. Kaster and his men understood perfectly well that if they proved their worth to their new lord, a bright future awaited them.
"Alright, break's over! Let's resume the patrol!"
Kaster rapped his knuckles against his shield and stood up first. He'd already made up his mind—he was going to bring his mother and children to live in the Twilight Forest in a few days. True, the forest lacked the glitz and glamour of the cities, but its peace and tranquility made it the perfect place to raise a family. It was far safer than the teeming metropolises, rife with drunkards, thugs, and thieves. For men like Kaster, who'd spent their lives dealing with the dregs of society, the chance to live in such a peaceful place was a blessing beyond measure.
Just as Kaster and his men were about to resume their patrol, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble gently.
What in the world?
Kaster frowned, holding up a hand to signal his men to halt. The tremors grew stronger, shaking the trees and rattling the loose stones on the forest floor.
An earthquake?
"Captain!"
As Kaster racked his brain for an explanation, one of his men shouted, pointing into the darkness. By the light of their torches, Kaster saw the earth not far ahead of them begin to sink inward, forming a narrow trench.
"Fall back! Fall back at once!"
Though he had no idea what was happening, Kaster reacted quickly, barking out the order. He led his men back several meters, watching the strange phenomenon unfold from a safe distance.
But what happened next was far beyond anything Kaster could have anticipated. He'd assumed the sinking earth was a fissure caused by the earthquake, but the trench stopped expanding after it reached a width of three or four meters. Instead, it began to stretch outward along an invisible path, snaking its way into the depths of the dark forest.
The trench moved at a startling pace, vanishing into the trees in the blink of an eye. The soldiers stared in dumbfounded silence, completely at a loss to explain what they'd just seen. But this was only the beginning.
As the trench stretched onward, the surrounding trees began to shift and transform. They rustled and creaked as their thick branches and trunks twisted, stretched, and rotated under the influence of some unknown force, growing denser and more lush. Even the shrubs and grasses on the forest floor spread outward, filling in the gaps left by the shifting terrain. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the gentle trembling of the ground ceased entirely.
A moment later, the soldiers heard it—a clear, melodious sound of running water, like the tinkling of silver bells. The sound of a stream.
What on earth was going on?
They exchanged confused glances, then hesitantly crept forward to investigate. When they saw the sight that greeted them, every last one of them froze, their breaths catching in their throats.
The solid earth that had once lain before them was gone, replaced by a crystal-clear stream, its waters glinting in the torchlight. And where their patrol path had once been, a low, elegant bridge made of smooth cobblestones now arched over the water. The stream, the grassy banks, and the surrounding trees blended together seamlessly, as if they'd been there for centuries. To any stranger passing by, it would have been impossible to guess that this tranquil stream had sprung into existence just minutes earlier.
"Captain… what is this?"
None of them could wrap their minds around what they were seeing. Kaster swallowed hard, his gaze drifting toward the dark castle nestled among the mountains and trees in the distance. He'd wagered a hundred gold coins that this sudden, inexplicable phenomenon had something to do with their lord. But that was just a guess. As a garrison captain, he knew his duty—and he knew what he had to do next.
"Someone go back to the castle at once and report this to his lordship!"
One last time, Kaster glanced at the stream before issuing his order.
Charlotte reached out a hand, only to have it gently but firmly blocked by a wall of lush greenery. The trees and shrubs swayed before her, rearranging themselves into an intricate, impenetrable barrier that barred any further passage.
"It's a natural ward, my lord," Charlotte said, turning back to Blake in astonishment. "This is a secret art known only to the elves. They use it to repel intruders who dare to trespass into their forests. By the Holy Mana, I never imagined a Wellspring conversion device could accomplish such a feat."
Early the next morning, after receiving Kaster's report, Blake had led his retinue to the site of the strange occurrence. And judging by what lay before them, the experiment had been an unqualified success.
Natural wards were the elves' signature magic. They would manipulate the positions of trees within a forest to create labyrinthine mazes on its outer borders, preventing ordinary humans from entering. Any intruder foolish enough to venture in would find themselves wandering in circles, eventually emerging right back where they started, exhausted and empty-handed. Even the lucky few who managed to breach the maze would find their path blocked by a seemingly random tangle of trees and undergrowth—plants that appeared wild and unkempt, but were in fact carefully arranged to repel trespassers. The elves were a peaceful people, who abhorred bloodshed. For them, this nonviolent method of defense was the perfect solution. This secret art was thought to be exclusive to the elves; no other race on the continent was believed to possess the knowledge to replicate it. And none of them had ever dreamed that such a spell could be stored within a Wellspring conversion device.
According to their initial survey, the stream wound its way around the entire perimeter of the Twilight Forest, forming a natural barrier that would turn away any would-be intruders. Even if someone managed to force their way through using brute strength, their movements would be detected instantly. Any hope of sneaking into the forest undetected would be utterly dashed.
"What an incredible device," Ophelia breathed, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the scene before her. "By the Holy Mana, I've seen Wellspring conversion devices before, but I never dreamed they could do something like this."
"Ordinary Wellspring devices certainly cannot, Lady Ophelia," Charlotte said, quickly regaining her composure—true to her training as an alchemist. "I may not know where this device originated, but I can say with absolute certainty that it is no ordinary contraption."
"I couldn't agree more," Blake nodded. He cared little for the technical details, but that didn't make him ignorant. As the saying went, even if you'd never eaten pork, you'd seen a pig run. Though he'd never owned a Wellspring device of his own, he'd seen plenty of similar machines in his time, and he knew exactly what they were capable of.
In fact, he'd learned a great deal about Wellsprings from the artificial spirit the previous night. The Wellspring he'd brought back was of medium size, emitting approximately 10,000 units of Mana per day. However, since the Twilight Forest was not the Wellspring's original location, it had to expend 3,000 units of Mana each day to alter the surrounding environment. Only once the forest had been fully transformed into a Wellspring territory would this energy cost decrease. Blake had also learned from the artificial spirit that while creating ordinary structures with the device consumed only a moderate amount of Mana, conjuring enchanted constructs like the natural ward required a significant, ongoing energy investment. Take the River of the Contemplative, for example—now that it had been created, the Möbius Loop needed to expend 100 units of Mana every month just to sustain its existence.
But even before this latest experiment, Blake had already given the artificial spirit another task: materializing the spectral warriors within the castle.
These spectral warriors were all elite fighters from the chaotic era—powerful, loyal, and utterly devoted to Blake. While the future expansion and prosperity of his domain would undoubtedly attract more people to his cause, capable and trustworthy subordinates like these were worth their weight in gold. To let such valuable assets go to waste would have been foolish in the extreme.
However, while their numbers were small, the spectral warriors' immense power meant that materializing them required a substantial amount of energy. Restoring a single specter to physical form cost at least 2,000 to 3,000 units of Mana. Fortunately, these warriors had been born in the chaotic era, and most of them were well-versed in ancient magic and meditation techniques. Once the device had materialized their bodies, they would be able to sustain themselves by meditating and absorbing the ambient Mana naturally present in the Twilight Forest—no further energy input from the Wellspring would be required.
For this reason, Blake had made a pact with the artificial spirit. Every midnight, the Wellspring device would expend a portion of its Mana to materialize one spectral warrior. Within three months' time, all of the specters would have physical bodies. This would lighten Blake's load considerably. Of course, with war looming on the horizon, he'd prioritized the warriors with the strongest combat abilities, placing those with less fighting prowess further down the list.
Now, having witnessed the Möbius Loop's power firsthand, Blake could finally rest easy, confident in his decision to put the device to full use.
"Lady Ophelia," Blake said, turning to the princess at his side and offering her a faint smile. "I believe it's time we began drawing up plans for the future development of our domain."