The sky was beginning to darken, streaks of orange and violet slowly fading behind the horizon.
It was time to return.
An emperor being out in the open without guards or attendants was not ideal. It carried its own dangers.
But Visil had long grown accustomed to danger.
He had fought through countless battles and survived more assassination attempts than he cared to remember. Reaching the throne had never been a path paved with safety.
Ayumu turned toward her brother, her eyes still swollen and red from crying. Her face had become adorably puffed up from all the tears.
Visil nearly laughed.
He barely managed to suppress it.
"Oh dear," he teased, a smile tugging at his lips. "Look at that face."
Ayumu immediately pouted. "Brother was crying too."
That earned a genuine laugh from him.
Before leaving, Visil informed her that she was free to visit the cottage whenever she wished.
"No one knows of this place except a handful of trusted people," he said. "If you ever need peace… come here."
Ayumu's expression brightened instantly.
"Thank you, brother."
Her smile was small, but warm enough to soften something inside him.
Without thinking, Visil lifted a hand, instinctively wanting to pat her head.
But midway, he hesitated.
His fingers paused in the air.
He was about to pull away—
When Ayumu suddenly rose onto her tiptoes, just enough for his palm to gently reach her hair.
Visil froze.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then, carefully, he rested his hand atop her head, patting her softly.
But almost immediately, he noticed it.
The subtle trembling in her shoulders.
The slight stiffness in her body.
She was forcing herself.
Trying.
Visil's expression softened.
A quiet sigh escaped him.
She still wasn't comfortable with physical touch.
Not yet.
And yet, she had tried—for him.
That realization made his chest ache.
Trauma did not simply vanish overnight.
Not after ten years.
Not after whatever she had endured all this time.
And no one—not even him—truly knew what those ten years had done to her.
Visil gently withdrew his hand.
"Don't push yourself, Ayumu," he said softly. "We'll take things slowly."
Ayumu lowered her gaze for a brief moment before nodding.
"…Okay."
The two returned to their horses.
As twilight settled over the forest, they rode back together in comfortable silence.
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Ayumu was officially appointed as the Royal Advisor.
There was no grand ceremony, no extravagant celebration. Instead, tradition was observed.
She was dressed in flowing white robes, a delicate white veil draped over her face—symbolic of purity, neutrality, and unwavering truth.
Within the grand hall, Emperor Visil sat upon his throne.
A long red carpet stretched from the entrance to the steps below him. On both sides, nobles and high-ranking officers were seated, their eyes fixed on the lone figure walking forward.
Ayumu.
Step by step, she moved with quiet grace.
Whispers lingered in the air—but none dared rise above the silence of the hall.
When she reached the foot of the steps, Ayumu lowered herself into a deep curtsy.
"I, Ayumu of the Velmiar lineage, pledge my loyalty to Your Majesty," she said softly, her voice steady despite the weight of the moment. "To serve with honesty, and to guide without bias, for the prosperity of this Empire."
Visil rose slightly from his throne.
"I accept your pledge," he declared. "From this day forth, you shall stand beside me as Royal Advisor of this Empire."
A formal applause followed.
It was respectful, yet not unanimous.
Among the crowd, several high-ranking nobles remained still, their silence louder than any disapproval.
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Despite the disbelievers, Ayumu quickly proved her worth.
Within a month, changes became evident.
Administrative processes grew more efficient. Decisions were made with clarity and purpose. Diplomatic ties with neighboring kingdoms, empires, and territories began to strengthen.
There was progress.
Visible, undeniable progress.
But one problem remained—the coffers were running dry.
Hence, a private council meeting was convened.
Fifteen noble heads gathered within Visil's office—including Kaiser.
Standing beside the emperor was Ayumu, her presence calm, her veil still concealing her expression.
"The trades are improving," one noble began, "but at this rate, they will not sustain the Empire's expenditure."
"Then there is only one solution," another interjected. "We seize riches from neighboring lands."
"Are you mad?" another snapped. "War requires resources as well. And we will not burden the people further."
Voices rose.
Arguments clashed.
The room grew tense.
Amidst it all, Kaiser remained silent.
His gaze rested—not on the nobles, not on the emperor—
But on Ayumu.
Steady. Unwavering.
Visil noticed. And it unsettled him.
"Do you have something to say, Lord Kaiser?" Visil cut in sharply, his tone edged with irritation. "Or will you continue staring?"
Kaiser shifted his gaze lazily.
"I doubt my suggestions would be valued," he said coolly. Then, after a brief pause, "Though… it seems the Royal Advisor might have one."
The room fell silent.
All eyes turned to Ayumu.
She stepped forward calmly, holding a small pouch in her hands.
"This… is for Your Majesty to see."
She placed it gently on the table.
Visil frowned slightly before opening it.
The moment he did—several gold items spilled out.
A small cup. Coins. Fragments of crafted ornaments.
All made of pure gold.
A murmur spread across the room.
"Where did you get this, Ayumu?" Visil asked, his voice sharp with disbelief.
Ayumu hesitated briefly.
Then spoke.
"I brought these with me… during my travels."
She lifted one of the items, turning it so the engraving caught the light.
"There exists a place of legend," she continued. "A civilization once consumed by its obsession with gold. Their entire city was adorned with it."
"A city of gold?" a noble scoffed. "A fairy tale."
"Perhaps," Ayumu replied calmly. "But I was intrigued. So I traced the stories… and I found it."
The room stilled.
She pointed to the engraving.
"This symbol belongs to the royal family of that era—the Pinoyan royal lineage."
Her voice remained steady.
"It is said their greed drove them to madness. And in the end, the god they worshipped punished them. A great wave swallowed their city… erasing it from existence."
A faint pause.
"Where water once stood… now lies a dense forest. Not far from here."
Skepticism rippled through the nobles.
"And you expect us to believe this?" one challenged.
"Why keep this hidden until now?" another demanded.
Ayumu turned her veiled gaze toward them.
"There is no obligation for you to believe me," she said softly. "But what I speak… is the truth."
Silence fell once more.
Because everyone in that room knew one thing.
White Magis do not lie. They could be doubted.
They could be questioned. But they do not lie.
"After my long visit to Knidos, where I studied their medicine," Ayumu began, her voice calm, "the people there spoke of this tale. As I wandered before returning to Epsos, I found myself at the outskirts of a dense forest."
She paused briefly.
"I did not venture far inside. But even near the edge… I found remnants like these. So I carried them with me."
Visil pressed his fingers against his forehead, already feeling a headache forming.
"What on earth were you doing wandering into a forest alone, Ayumu?" His voice carried both frustration and concern. His mind raced through countless possibilities—dangers, creatures, unseen threats. To her, it seemed like nothing more than a quiet stroll.
"Your Majesty, I wasn't alone," Ayumu replied gently. "Vesta was with me."
Though her face remained hidden behind the veil, her tone was straight-forward.
That earned a soft giggle from Lady Jadeite, who stood among the nobles. From the moment she met Ayumu, she had found the girl utterly endearing.
Visil, however, was at a complete loss for words.
Another noble—one without magis—stepped forward.
"Then why keep this to yourself? Why not inform us sooner?"
Ayumu tilted her head slightly.
"…Because it was never asked."
For a moment—silence.
Then Lady Jadeite burst into laughter, unable to hold it in.
The other nobles reacted in mixed ways. Some rubbed their temples, already exhausted trying to make sense of her logic. Others exchanged curious glances, unsure whether to question further.
Ayumu shifted slightly, sensing the tension.
"There were also… warnings," she continued. "It was said that the gold and treasures are cursed. That something guards them… and that those who take them would be afflicted."
Her hands folded gently in front of her.
"The forest itself was also said to be filled with dangerous creatures."
She hesitated.
"So… I thought, if I were to keep the gold, then at least only I would be affected." A small pause. "And not my brother— I mean… His Majesty."
The room fell completely silent.
Ayumu continued, her voice steady despite the weight of their gazes.
"It has been months since I kept these items. I have not noticed any changes… so I believed it would be safe now to present them to His Majesty."
A long, collective sigh filled the room.
The nobles could hardly believe what they were hearing.
There was no arguing with the logic of a White Magis.
Now that they were experiencing it firsthand… it was strangely exhausting.
How could someone be so selfless—and yet so unaware of danger?
It was beyond them.
Kaiser, in that moment, shared the same frustration as Visil.
But as his eyes shifted toward Ayumu, he noticed something else.
The slight stiffness in her posture.
The faint hesitation as she didn't fully understand their reactions.
To her… this was simply the right thing to do.
The room had grown too quiet.
So Kaiser spoke.
"How far is this place from here?"
Ayumu looked toward him. "Hmm? Oh… about two weeks' journey, Lord Kaiser."
Kaiser turned to Visil.
"Your Majesty, it is worth investigating. If more of this gold exists, it could greatly aid the Empire's finances."
Before Visil could respond, Lord Elbus stepped forward.
"Think carefully," he said. "The forest is said to be filled with dangerous creatures. And legends are not always truth. The gold may no longer even be there."
His gaze hardened slightly.
"Are we prepared to take such a risk?"
The room fell into contemplation once more.