Konrad's hands hovered over Stella's bracelet.
His confidence evaporated as memories of the catacombs flooded back. He was anything but prepared back then. He had been a victim of his grandiose stupidity.
It had taken him days to recover.
But even now, as arcana filled his body to the brim, he was reluctant to touch the artifact.
Those flames he summoned earlier? They didn't even make a dent in his pool. He could've overcharged the thing without breaking a sweat, and yet—
Was it the same for her?
She wasn't a sorcerer or a bishop, for sure, but the change was obvious at a glance. She seemed less intimidating than usual. What if the drain was the only thing keeping her in check?
At least if she tried anything, Welf was there, too.
If, for any reason, his magic failed—knowing that the smallest flame could force her to cower—
The carriage jumped on the uneven road, jolting him out of his indecisiveness.
"Here goes nothing," he sighed, reaching for the executioner's wrist.
He braced himself for the siphoning, wrapping his fingers around the bracelet, and—
Nothing.
"Was that supposed to do it?" the blacksmith-turned-coachman raised an eyebrow.
"I, um, this was all I had to do when it was on me," Konrad scratched his head.
The artifact felt neither warm nor cold; it didn't react to him at all.
"What is it?" Sister Stella gasped, staring at his hand. "Get it off already, please."
Hmm. She didn't call him Ser Prodigy, threaten him, or use the usual snark, either.
"How does this work?" Konrad asked the priest for help, but he could only shrug, too.
"The first time I saw one was when you appeared in my cell, wearing it," Father Alastair said. "I only heard rumors, and that we banned these."
"The Inquisitor said never put one on," Stella sounded desperate, "or they'd be stuck forever."
"So you put one on me instead?!" Konrad fumed. "No, how many was it? Three? Four?!"
"Y-you were the first sorcerer I had to face," she curled up in her seat, as if it was the boy's fault.
He sighed. With his mana pool, overcharging the bracelet would have been trivial if he had worn it. But now—how was he supposed to transfer his essence into it—or her?
He knew how to shape, concentrate, or scatter elements, but neither of those seemed to help.
When he tried to concentrate on the bracelet, his mana bounced right off. Doing the same with the girl's arm made her hiss in pain. Tears welled up in her grey eyes but didn't fall.
"So we don't have any adamantite after all," Welf concluded, as if announcing his defeat.
"Why, sorry. I didn't expect her to use an artifact she knows nothing about," Konrad scoffed.
"Nobody knows how to take them off. That's why we banned them in the first place," Father Alastair noted. "But Otto Ostfeld isn't someone who'd let rules hold him back—"
"Shut up, don't you dare invoke his name like that," Stella got some of her snark back.
And Konrad thought he had finally broken that wild spirit.
Considering she was the victim of said Inquisitor, she was rather defensive.
"If not for my trade arrangements, I wouldn't care if it got stuck on her for good," Konrad sighed. "But I need that adamantite. Daddy wants a new sword and more allies—"
The words stuck in his throat when he noticed the executioner's glare.
It wasn't anger—disgust?
Good thing the bracelet prevented her from casting spells. If she even could.
But she might've killed him with her stare alone.
Her personality swings were almost as crazy as Gabrielle's.
Which reminded him of his harem. The two girls he left behind passed out in—
"We're going back to the Duchy of Aset, right?" Konrad poked his head out. "How far is your tribe from Eytjangard? Zoltan might've already recovered that book about mana—"
"You sure you want to take the Inquisitor's lapdog there?" the blacksmith raised an eyebrow.
Crap. The Green Mage's disappearance was still a secret. And with everything getting in his way of finding out what happened—
No, it was already a miracle that nobody had followed them so far, as the sun began to rise.
What would've happened if they discovered that the Tower of Illusion was, well, an illusion?
Stella already knew too much.
He could never let her go, and without the bracelet to tame her, she could be a pain in the ass.
Okay, she already was. And what should he do with the priest?
Even if he trusted him enough to leave the girl in his care, the executioner would've eaten him for breakfast. With or without her mana drain on.
She kept glaring at them with all the hatred in the world, and to think her family served his—
"All right, our options." Konrad ticked them off on his fingers. "Leave the bracelet on and forget the adamantite. Cut her arm off—though I'm guessing she'd die from that. Or—"
"That's a little extreme," Welf winced.
"He should've killed me already," Stella's defiance flared, too.
"Or," the boy ignored them, "take her to Eytjangard, sort this out, and then leave her behind."
"Hah. Zoltan won't be happy," the redhead chuckled, "but it might work. Church's weaker there."
Yes, because of the Green Mage. If they found out he was long gone—
"I don't have any better ideas," Konrad stared at the ceiling. "At least it's not a huge detour."
"A week has already passed, though," the redhead reminded. "If you spend another to learn new spells, and we'll have to keep watching our backs—"
"Wow, have some faith," the boy scoffed. "I figured out my greatest weakness in three days."
Although that was some insane luck, he solved it with the runes he had already learned.
Plus, it was different when his life depended on it. Now, taking them to Eyjtyangard was a threat in and of itself. Although—if Lily were awake, Stella would be in good hands.
Why couldn't this world have phones, or long-range telepathy, or something?!
"I don't like loose ends," Welf scratched his head. "But you're right. We can't haul them everywhere with us anyway, and we need that adamantite."
It sounded like he wanted that adamantite more than anything.
Not that he had a reason to complain. Their goals aligned, so he took a deep breath.
"We'll take you two to my master," Konrad announced, staring at Stella. "His first fireball burned down an entire forest, so you'd better behave."
He didn't feel the need to add that he fell into a coma for three days after that.
"Otherwise, my girlfriend will keep an eye on you—and you'd be even worse off with her."
"Your girlfriend?" The executioner's eyes narrowed. "Didn't we leave her in Haiten?"
"Oh, that's his other one," Welf volunteered to add. "This one is my sister, and she can throw fireballs for days as well." At least he didn't say that she was in a coma, too.
"H-how many girlfriends do you have, Ser Prodigy?!" Why'd she sound so disgusted now?
Wait, no, that was—was she scared for her chastity?
Konrad could only grin at it.
"Three, for now. But we'll see."