her favors, to plot, to murder, and to scheme. She did not master tactical strategies.
Artizea couldn't accomplish something Cedric wasn't capable of.
Even if she were a truly brilliant strategist, there was no way to overcome the current imbalance of power.
"I see."
Cedric seemed to understand quickly why Artizea shook her head.
"Even you can't do anything about it."
He said grimly.
Tears fell from Artizea's eyes.
in an ancient language.
Even if someone could copy them, no one could activate them at will.
But Artizea could.
She was one of the few people who could easily write the ancient characters of that dead language.
She had studied the magic circles to use them in evil acts.
Although the bleeding did not stop, Artizea bit her tongue many times and also bit the inside of her mouth to bleed even more.
She had to draw a magic circle of considerable size with the spilled blood.
She drew the magic circle all night long.
There would be no second chances, so she had to draw it correctly on this one occasion.
Halfway through, her vision became blurred, and she had to bite her tongue harder to stay awake.
Before dawn she finally managed to finish, and collapsed on the magic circle due to great blood loss.
'It's a proper human sacrifice.'
Artizea closed his eyes helplessly.
The magic circle that would take her life began to glow blue.
Cedric, who realized that something strange was happening in the tent, rushed in and looked at her in amazement.
But the magic circle had already begun to work and required no further sacrifice.
There was a flash of light that prevented him from approaching.
'I hope that your wishes will come true in your next life.'
That was Artizea's last thought.
The magic soon became a pillar of light that extended to the ends of the sky and illuminated the night sky.
***
had bowed his head to her.
She felt a weight on her chest and gently placed her hand on her left breast.
'In return for kneeling before the devil, you got the devil to get his hands dirty for you.'
It was like a promise.
Artizea went to his desk.
At the bottom of the desk drawer was his diary. She took it out and opened the diary on the last page.
< June 2nd, 482 in the Imperial Calendar >
Eight days ago, Artizea turned 18.
It was almost two years before her 20th birthday, when she would inherit the title of Marchioness Rosan.