"Hmm, what do you mean by 'a problem arose'? What sort of problem?" I asked, lifting my head slightly from Mil's lap and narrowing my eyes. "Did the Head of the Anabald House come back?"
Mil gently withdrew her hand from my hair, folding it primly on her lap. "It wasn't explained in detail in the briefing," she said, her voice dipping slightly in tone. "But I've heard that many churches in the southern territory have started getting raided. Destroyed, even."
Kayda's eyes flicked over. I sat up straighter, already sensing the tension in the air.
"I see," I muttered, processing. "Do you think it's the Anabalds behind it?"
"No," Kayda said sharply, her tone like a blade. "They aren't cowards like that. If they wanted a war, they'd fight it in the open. Proudly. Loudly."
Mil nodded in agreement, her lips curling slightly in distaste. "Yes. As much as I despise them, House Anabald wouldn't stoop to tactics like this. They bask in the light—preach it, even. Their obsession with replicating angels is already loathsome enough."
I blinked, glancing at her sideways. "You really don't hold back when talking about them, huh?"
She gave me a worn-out look. "There's no reason to pretend. Not after everything."
"But do you at least know who is behind the attacks?" I asked, steepling my fingers and resting my chin on them. "And does this connect to the head of Anabald's disappearance?"
Mil's face soured as she exhaled sharply. "No. They're good at hiding. Too good. And frankly, no one's even cared about the Anabald head lately. These attackers have already destroyed four newly built churches. That's where the attention is now."
Kayda's eyes narrowed. "Where were these four destroyed?"
Mil lifted her eyes, voice steady. "Two in the city of Anabald. One in Dublin. And a few days ago, another in Armillian."
Her gaze settled on me for a moment.
A small ripple of unease passed between us.
"I see…" I muttered, fingers tapping my temple thoughtfully. "Is there any way to figure out what they used to destroy the churches? Explosions? Fire? Magic?"
"There were no traces of mana," Mil said plainly. "So it couldn't have been a spell."
Kayda shifted beside me, clearly intrigued now.
Mil continued, her brow furrowed in frustration. "But they always attack on a moonless night. If any guards present have night vision, they'll flash a red light to blind them—just for a second. That's all it takes."
That got a reaction.
"Wait," Kayda said, eyes narrowing. "How would they know who has night vision?"
Mil shook her head slowly. "We don't know. But they're always right. Every time, the guards with night vision are eliminated first. Like someone tipped them off."
I frowned. "That's… Wait. If they're being killed, how do you guys know these tactics?"
Mil hesitated for a moment, then looked up. "That's another thing. They always leave six survivors after every raid. No more. No less. Always six."
She paused, her eyes clouded by memory.
"And they're always found hanging upside down against a black pillar," she said. "Right in the center of the ruined church."
I blinked. "A black pillar, huh? "That's really original," I muttered sarcastically in an attempt to lighten the mood, but neither woman smiled.
Kayda leaned forward slightly, the tension in her shoulders tightening. "You said no mana traces. That rules out most spells. But…"
She paused.
"If they had control like me," she continued, "they could manipulate mana without leaving traces. It's rare, but not impossible."
That made me stare.
Mil immediately sat straighter. "Lady Kayda… Are you suggesting…"
"I'm saying," Kayda interrupted, tone firm, "that if I wanted to, I could raze a church to the ground and make it look like no magic was ever used. That level of mana control is… specific. Difficult. But clearly possible."
Mil's eyes widened, a flicker of fear dancing across her expression. "That is… troubling. Are you certain someone like that could be involved?"
"I'm not certain. But the signs point in that direction," Kayda said bluntly. "And if that's the case, you'll need more than an archbishop to deal with it."
My gaze drifted to the window.
'Someone with Kayda-level control… That's not something you hear every day, I thought. 'There aren't many people in history who have refined their control to that level. Even fewer people stayed hidden. Unless…'
My eyes narrowed slightly.
Unless they're from my world, where kids now get that kind of control for free.'
The thought chilled me more than I liked.
I leaned back in my seat and turned to Mil. "Mil, was there anything else mentioned about the explosions?"
"Not much," she said, brow creasing. "After every attack, all that's left is rubble, the black pillar, and—"
"Let me guess," I interrupted. "Shrapnel?"
She blinked. "Yes. How did you…?"
"Mostly metal?" I asked again, ignoring her question.
"Yes, the metal is concentrated mostly around the central zone of the blast."
I let out a low whistle. "Yep. That tracks."
Kayda tilted her head. "Are you going to explain for the rest of us, genius?"
"Well," I began, smiling slightly, "because reincarnated people have patterns. Weird, persistent ones. For instance, always leaving six survivors? Way too specific. Using red light to blind night vision users? That's a trick straight from my world. In modern warfare, tactics like that are standard. Using any means to disorient your opponent is crucial, particularly when they possess technological advantages.
Kayda didn't look surprised. "Nova, this sounds like speculation."
"Oh, it is speculation," I admitted easily. "But I'm also about 80% sure that whoever is doing this is either a reincarnator—or trained by one."
Mil blinked rapidly. "How… how can you be so sure?"
I crossed my arms. "The shrapnel. It could've been from an explosive container filled with natural elements—chemicals, basically. Mixed correctly, they can level entire buildings. No man involved. Just science."
Mil gasped slightly, but Kayda gave me a thoughtful nod.
"Using natural materials would leave no magical traces. Hmm. Not bad," Kayda said approvingly.
Mil, however, seemed shaken. "All of this isn't public knowledge. Please—don't spread this. The Church doesn't want people panicking. If the masses see us struggling—"
"I get it," I interrupted gently. "Your secret's safe with me."
"And me," Kayda added, surprisingly supportive.
Mil sighed in relief.
I glanced between the two of them and smirked. "Now that we're done being all doom and gloom…"
Without warning, I slid back down and flopped my head into Mil's lap again.
She stiffened immediately. "Nova! What are you doing?!"
"Getting comfortable," I mumbled without shame. "Didn't I say I was still tired?"
Kayda snorted. "Is this because of the fight earlier?"
"It's her fault," I grumbled, pointing at Kayda without looking. "She's a slave driver."
"Oh really?" Mil said with mock sympathy. "The poor little fox, bullied by a dragon."
"I swear, Dragonoids are nothing but trouble," she added with a bit too much edge.
Even Kayda raised an eyebrow.
"Woah, calm down," I said with a laugh. "If you want to insult a Dragonoid, don't say it to their face. You have to call them lizards behind their back."
Kayda's expression darkened immediately.
"That's worse than an insult, you stupid fox," she growled. "And get off her lap."
"How about… no." I grinned, eyes closed again. "Mil's lap is really comfy."
Kayda's eye twitched.
"Nova," she said lowly. "Get. Off. Her. Lap."
"Nope."
A long pause.
"Fine then," she muttered.
"What are you doing—wait, let go of me!" Mil squeaked as Kayda suddenly grabbed her by the collar.
I felt the lap vanish.
"Hey! Where's my pillow?!"
I blinked and sat up, just in time to see Kayda open the carriage door and toss Mil out like a sack of laundry. The door slammed behind her with a heavy thunk.
"Kayda," I said slowly, watching her turn around with a dangerous glare, "what did you do?"
"I. Can't. Take it. Anymore," she snapped.
I paled. "Uh… it was just a joke?"
"You think I'm going to let you play around like that forever?" she said, walking toward me like a predator. "Every time, it's a joke. A tease. A game."
I backed up until my spine hit the wall. "Kayda… let's not do anything we'll regret."
Her tail shot forward, curling around my waist before lifting me clean off the floor.
"Wait—what are you—?!"
She didn't answer. She just pulled me forward, sat back down, and dragged me beside her.
"Shut up," she muttered, forcibly guiding my head down onto her lap.
I blinked up at her, stunned.
"…What?"
"Don't say anything," she warned, eyes flicking away.
I swallowed and said nothing for a moment.
'Was… she jealous?'
It hit me then—this wasn't just Kayda being annoyed. She had sensed a presence observing me while I was in Mil's lap.
'I was trying to tease her—but did I actually get to her?'
I lay there in silence, peeking up at her face.
Her expression appeared calm, but I could see the tightness around her eyes. Averted gaze. Her tail was still lightly curled around my waist, which felt possessive but not threatening.
"Kayda," I asked quietly, "who is your soulmate?"
She stiffened.
"…Th—"
"So it's me," I said softly, eyes drifting to the side. "Hah… It took me a long time to figure that out.
I chuckled bitterly.
"Guess you drew the short end of the stick, huh?"
Kayda blinked down at me, mildly startled.
"And why would you say that?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I'm broken in many ways. Especially mentally. Not exactly soulmate material."
"You are broken," she admitted. "And yes, not ideal for a dragon."
I glared up at her. "Oi. That's not what you're supposed to say."
Kayda sighed. "But… soulmates are chosen for a reason. And after the past month… I can see why. You're…"
She trailed off, eyes softening.
"You're the embodiment of a storm. Chaotic. Fierce. But… alive. Real. And despite everything, you move forward."
I stared up at her, my throat tightening.
"…You really mean that?" I asked quietly.
She nodded once.
I didn't say anything else.
Just closed my eyes.
And for once…
Let me rest.