Chapter 80: Riven Once Again

"Impressive. You figured it out quickly."

"He's my brother. I know how he thinks."

In one of the derelict houses on the backstreets,
inside a building so rundown only vagrants might stay there, she was waiting.

The woman who had acted as the auction’s host. I had assumed she was one of Rosalind’s subordinates, and as expected, she’d stayed behind in this city.

This building itself had been used during the earlier incident.
If I recall correctly, Trishel said she stormed in here—and caused quite a ruckus, too.

"So, what business do you have with me?"

"I’ll be blunt. Take me to Rosalind."

"A message from Lord Lionel for Lady Rosalind?"

I clicked my tongue.

"…Yeah. And don’t call me that name in this town. I go by Riven here."

"My apologies, Lord Riven. Then, may I ask you to wait a moment? I’ll just send her a message."

With that, the woman picked up a pen and a sheet of paper on the desk.
Some kind of code? At first glance it was unreadable, and as she wrote, the writing disappeared. Probably a magic tool. Far too fine an item for such a rundown house—but not so strange if it belonged to Rosalind’s forces.

"…How is she doing?"

"Lady Rosalind does not contact us for anything beyond what is necessary. So I’m sorry, but all I can tell you is that she appears to be working as diligently as ever today."

Very by-the-book. Typical of her, really.

She’s not the type to make small talk with subordinates. She only gives necessary orders, keeps track of everything herself, and handles the rest alone.
On the other hand, the lack of contact could also be a sign she’s fine. If her subordinates aren’t heavily active, it means she’s managing everything on her own.

"—The message has been sent. Please wait for her reply."

"Yeah."

I’d been watching the letters she wrote, but as expected, I couldn’t decipher them. Not something you could crack easily.

Silence. I couldn’t think of any more small talk, nor did I have any complaints to air.

In truth, it’s strange enough for me to be making this request at all. We’re both heirs to the throne—rivals, not allies.

But right now, I’m forced into a situation where I can’t afford to be picky.

There’s no one else I know who understands magic better than she does.

The paper glowed. Letters floated up.

At first glance it was just paper and pen, but how on earth did it work?

"My, that was quick."

"What does it say?"

"Just a moment, please. —Oh, it seems the young lady herself will be coming directly."

"What?"

She’s coming herself? Impossible. She must be incredibly busy.

During the auction, sure, I could imagine her showing up if it was to drag me back. But coming here, without even knowing what I want to say—that was unexpected.

Does she see the very fact that I’m reaching out to her as an emergency?

Even so, could she really come so easily… Is that teleportation magic circle hidden in her clothes that advanced?

"Though, my apologies, it seems she won’t actually be coming herself."

"…What do you mean?"

"Please wait just a little longer. It should be any moment now."

As I wondered what she meant, suddenly, the air in the room shifted.

Nothing visible had changed, but it felt like gravity had multiplied several times over—an overwhelming pressure.

The woman’s closed eyes slowly opened.

"…This is what I meant."

"Possession!"

"Indeed. I have my children trained to allow me to descend into them like this in emergencies."

She still looked like the auction’s host, but the presence inside was different.

It would be more accurate to say only Rosalind’s spirit was here.

Another type of magic I’d never heard of.

"And so, to call me out like this… You must be truly cornered."

"…Yeah. Charlotte has been put to sleep by magic and hasn’t woken up."

Suspiciously, Rosalind narrowed her eyes.

"…That’s not something I can easily believe."

"Didn’t think so. It’s not that big of a deal—"

"No. What I mean is, there’s no way that girl would ever fall for such a curse-like trick."

"What do you mean?"

She can’t be affected by curses?

Could it have something to do with her birth?

For some reason, I suddenly recalled the time when the Bloodletting Curse had lost its effect.
Was that the same kind of thing?

"From the look on your face… seems you’ve learned something about her."

"…So you knew already?"

"Of course. To me, what matters more than old family feuds is the fact that she’s my brother’s beloved."

In other words, she had no intention of harming her. Typical of her.
That part I understood. But what she said before—that’s what I needed to know.

"If you already know, then I’ll skip the details. Simply put, her very existence is on a different level."

"A different level?"

"Think of it this way… do you believe a single frail villager could break down a fortress wall alone?"

Of course not.
Even with tools, even with trained soldiers, it would still take several people working together.

Rosalind gave a knowing, seductive smile.

"Spells and curses designed for humans cannot possibly affect her. At least, not those that target the mind or spirit."

"Then what should we do?"

This time Rosalind smiled brightly and extended her hand toward me.

What’s with this hand?

"Until I see it for myself, I can’t say for certain. So—how about a little date with your big sister in town?"

Apparently, she was asking me to escort her.

…The sight of her in this host’s body was strange, but right now she was my only lead.
I quietly placed my hand beneath hers, supporting it.

We returned to the inn.

Before entering my room, Neil must have realized who I was bringing with me. He immediately shifted into battle readiness, but once he understood the situation, his expression twisted into bitter resignation.

He stepped aside, allowing me to lead Rosalind inside.

"Well-trained boy," Rosalind remarked, clearly impressed.

"Riven, you’re back—!"

"Reynard. She’s an ally, for now."

The two women nearby looked confused, but Reynard instantly assumed a fighting stance.

So he, too, had figured out who I’d brought.
Even though she was suppressing her aura and her appearance was different.

"We meet again, blond swordsman."

"…I’m Reynard. Riven’s sister."

"You’re his friend, aren’t you? Just call me Rosalind."

The moment she introduced herself, the two women froze—then tensed and raised their weapons.

Looks like what happened at the auction had at least been shared within the clan.

But a fight breaking out here was the last thing I wanted.

"You two, stand down. …I see. Impressive indeed."

"Yeah. Of everyone I know, she’s the one with the deepest knowledge of magic."

Rosalind walked straight over to the sleeping Charlotte, sat casually on the edge of the bed, and gently took her hand.

"…Interesting. A rare spell. I thought this one was lost."

"You figured it out?"

"Yes. Even the reason why she’s bedridden."

"What is it!"

Before I could ask for details, the female mage blurted the question, unable to contain herself. Her frustration at not understanding was plain.

"As a premise, there is only one spell cast on her. And it isn’t a sleep spell."

"What do you mean?"

"The spell is called Sharing. It links the senses and condition of the caster with another."

—At that instant, a memory surfaced.

Someone not here now. Someone capable of using Sharing magic.

A blue-haired woman. Always nonchalant, impossible to read.

"She’s asleep because the one she’s linked with is asleep. Even her dreams would be shared. The magic isn’t cast on her directly—it’s cast on the other person, and its effects are passed on. Quite an elaborate scheme."

"B-but! Normally, that kind of spell would be repelled, wouldn’t it? Unless there had been significant physical contact over time, or unless she truly trusted the person…"

"Exactly. But there exists a magic so similar to her own aura that even she could be deceived. This isn’t something new—it’s been blended with hers over a long, long period. She must have been close with the caster for quite some time."

Physical contact.

Thinking back, she was always trying to touch her whenever she could. Charlotte resisted fiercely, but still.

And her heart too—at first guarded, but after all the incidents they’d been through, she’d clearly come to trust her.

I felt a gaze and turned around. Reynard was watching me.

His eyes said he was thinking the same thing I was.

"…Looks like you two have someone in mind."

"Yeah. Fits together a little too perfectly for comfort."

"I don’t want to believe it. From what I’ve seen of her, she doesn’t seem like that kind of person."

But the evidence in front of us pointed straight at her.

We had no choice. We had to find the caster—Trishel.

"Reynard, please. Tell me her movements, her records."

"I…"

"Please."

Reynard hesitated, unable to speak. He didn’t want to accept it. His eyes wandered aimlessly, betraying his turmoil.

"…Even without finding the caster, there is another way," Rosalind said.

"What!?"

"We can slip into this child’s dream. Or rather—the caster’s dream, through her. Right here, right now."

I turned my eyes toward the bed. Rosalind was tracing letters in the air with her left hand.

Magic, perhaps. Her finger left behind glowing strokes, shining characters that lingered.

A magic circle. Likely tied to Sharing.

When it was complete, the circle drifted under her finger toward Charlotte and flared with a bright light.

"Of course, we’d be storming into their home ground, so it won’t be a fair fight. But as a move we can take immediately, isn’t this the best option?"

"But… you just said Sharing was supposed to be a lost magic! Even I can’t use something like that…"

So she still wanted to compete. Fine. But the real issue was that I couldn’t fully trust Rosalind either.

She made it sound simple—but could it really be done? Would Charlotte suffer for it?

Too many unanswered questions.

"Let me tell you something, young lady."

Even so, my mind was already made up.

"The heart that cares for someone knows no limits—
and for those who truly care, there is no such thing as impossible."