Chapter 187: Alone...

The floor shook.

It was not like the night the sky dome cracked, but it was no longer a light tremor either. The entire tower seemed to have been seized by a giant hand and violently shaken.

Crystal strands on the chandeliers clattered against one another. The cup on the small table slid off its saucer and shattered beneath the chair.

White mortar dust drifted down from the freshly plastered cracks in the ceiling.

The Succubi kneeling around the chair all bowed to the floor, both hands covering their heads.

Bang!

The golden doors flew open.

"Erik!"

Meira rushed in first. Her Healer robe billowed behind her. She did not spare a glance for any rules about kneeling or standing, and in two steps, she was directly in front of him.

One hand pressed against his chest, the other raised, pale green mana already gathered at her fingertips. Through their Contract, his heartbeat remained steady. Yet she still did not let go.

Laviana followed close behind. The lazy posture she had worn while leaning against the wall had vanished without a trace.

She stood at Erik’s other side, her blue eyes narrowing into thin slits as they swept across the entire room. Twelve transparent snake eyes slithered from cracks in the wall, hovering in a circle around his head.

Within a single breath, Erik had been completely protected.

And on the other side of the room...

Zeka gripped both armrests tightly, his gaunt body swaying with every tremor. The velvet cushion beneath his long claws slid to one side.

The two Succubi holding up his hair had released it at some point and curled up on the stone floor, trembling violently. His white hair fell to the ground for the second time that day.

The Succubi kneeling along the walls were the same, their faces pressed against the marble floor, caring only about protecting their own heads.

Not one of them looked up. Not one moved toward him, not even an inch.

Viper still stood beside the chair, one hand resting on its back to keep it from sliding away. That was all. Her eyes were not even on Zeka.

No one shielded him.

For one very brief moment, amid the clattering crystals and the groaning of stone within the walls, his sunken eyes passed over the two women standing before Erik, then slowly lowered to the Succubi huddled at his feet.

And stopped there.

He said nothing. Only the long claws on the armrest curled slightly, as though trying to grasp something that was not there.

...

Erik did not see that look.

Because the moment the floor began to shake, something else made him freeze.

On his chest, beneath his clothes, one petal in the guiding mark suddenly grew warm.

Not the brilliant golden petal that always warmed whenever Saraya was in his arms. This time, it was the silver-white petal. Its warmth was strange, carrying the biting cold of early snow, thin and sharp as a needle piercing straight into flesh.

Winter.

An old sound suddenly echoed in Erik’s mind. From the dream in the Lord of Seasons’ garden, the sound of crying drifted up from deep beneath the snow, hoarse like someone who had cried for far too long. The clash of iron chains.

He lowered his gaze to the floor, as though trying to see through every stone layer of this tower.

Then his eyes slowly shifted to Zeka.

Zeka was no longer gripping the armrests. His white brows were tightly furrowed, his eyes fixed on the stone floor beneath his chair, like someone listening to something rising from the tower’s deepest depths. Not fear.

Wariness.

Erik did not ask.

Behind him, Runi also lowered her gaze to the floor.

For a long time.

...

The tremors gradually slowed.

Each wave became more scattered and weaker, like the breath of a colossal beast sinking back into sleep. Meira softly exhaled. The Succubi on the floor still did not dare raise their heads.

Runi lifted the teapot and slowly followed Erik toward the door, as though nothing had happened.

Click.

A very small sound from overhead.

Erik looked up. The silver chain holding the crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling had lost one link after all the shaking. The entire chandelier, as large as an entire round table, tilted sharply to one side and swayed once.

Runi was directly beneath it.

She was still looking down at the floor.

"Runi!"

Erik lunged forward before he could think. He seized her wrist, yanked her into his arms, spun around, and used his entire back to shield her from above.

The chandelier fell.

But it could not reach him.

Meira had raised her hand before Erik could turn around. A pale green mana shield blossomed in the air above them, catching the entire massive crystal structure.

The impact rang out harshly. Hundreds of crystal fragments exploded outward, raining down around them like glittering hail before rolling across the marble floor.

The room went silent.

Erik still held Runi tightly against his chest. One hand rested behind her neck, pressing her head against his chest. The other wrapped around her waist, holding her so firmly that he himself did not realize how much force he was using.

The teapot in Runi’s hand fell and rolled across the floor.

She did not pick it up.

She stood still in his embrace, her eyes wide open as she stared at the shirt before her. His heart beat rapidly right beside her ear. The warmth from his chest seeped through the fabric and spread over her cheeks.

Then, at her lower abdomen, a mark glowed faintly.

A gentle warmth flowed out from it, slowly and tenderly, running along her spine and rising into her chest. The thing that had stirred when she saw the bandaged knees in the hallway stirred once more.

But this time, it was not like swallowing a shard of bone.

Runi was bewildered.

She did not understand. She had registered everything: the wrist being grabbed, her body being pulled in, the back turning to shield her from above. Everything was clear as numbers. But the thing rising in her chest could not be measured by any number.

Erik frowned slightly. A very faint warmth passed through the fabric at the place where her body pressed against his. It lasted only an instant before fading, so quickly that he thought he might have imagined it.

Standing right beside them, Laviana narrowed her eyes slightly. Her gaze settled on the faint glow at Runi’s lower abdomen, then moved up to that bewildered face. Her red lips slowly curved upward.

As for Viper, who still stood beside Zeka’s chair, she only glanced over once. The delicate brows on that porcelain-doll face furrowed slightly, so faintly, then immediately relaxed as though nothing had happened.

While everyone’s attention remained focused on Erik and Runi, Laviana gently raised one finger and tapped the air. A tiny snake eye the size of a bean formed at her fingertip, transparent as a water droplet.

It circled once, flew close to the ground, and slipped through the gap beneath the door. Then it passed through layers of stone wall, one after another, sinking deeper below.

It vanished.

...

The tremors stopped completely.

Erik loosened his embrace and lowered his gaze to the person in his arms. White mortar dust and a few crystal fragments speckled Runi’s hair. He raised a hand and brushed them away one by one, his movements not particularly gentle.

"Are you stupid?"

Runi looked up.

"The chandelier was about to fall on you, and you were still looking at the floor? Do you not know how to move out of the way? Why were you not paying attention at all?"

His voice was harsh, like an older brother scolding a younger sibling for doing something reckless.

Runi blinked. Her lips parted, then closed again. She did not understand why she was being scolded.

She understood even less why the person who had just rushed forward to shield her from the chandelier was now angry as though he were the one who had nearly been hurt.

"...Yes, Sir Erik."

Erik let out a breath and brushed away the final crystal fragment from her shoulder.

He knew.

He knew perfectly well that the person standing before him now was no longer the Runi from before. He did not know what the thing residing in those eyes was, nor what it wanted.

But this body was still Runi’s. This hair, these hands, this face. They all still belonged to that girl. One day, if she could return, he did not want her to return to a body covered in scars.

That was all.

"Erik."

Meira had appeared right beside him at some point. She said nothing more, only took hold of his wrist, her fingers resting on his pulse as pale green mana slowly traveled along his arm and spread through his entire body once. Only after ensuring that he did not have even a scratch did her shoulders finally relax.

"Next time," she said very softly, "do not rush in before I have the chance to act."

"You acted faster than I did."

"That is not the reason."

Laviana stepped to his other side, plucked a small crystal fragment from his collar, and turned it between two fingertips.

"Darling, you truly do not know how to care for yourself at all." Her voice was still sweet as honey, but the hand resting on his shoulder squeezed a little tighter, lingering longer than usual. "If this back were injured, an entire house full of women would cry to me. I could not stand it."

Erik laughed. "I’m fine."

"I know." Laviana flicked the crystal shard away. "But I still want to hear you say it."

...

On the other side of the room, Zeka watched silently.

The Succubi who held his hair had crawled back, trembling as they gathered his white hair from the crystal fragments. The velvet cushion had been placed beneath his long claws again. Everything was slowly returning to its proper place.

But Zeka did not look down at them.

He looked toward Erik. A man standing amid shattered crystals. A Healer holding his wrist, her face stern but her eyes unable to hide her concern.

A venomous snake woman pretending to scold him, her hand still not leaving his shoulder. And a maid standing in the protective circle formed by all three of them, looking bewildered.

No one had ordered them to act. There was no device. No black pen.

Yet they had still rushed in.

Zeka’s white brows furrowed slightly. Something inside that dried-up chest of his stung, very faintly, very strangely. He did not know what to call it. Or perhaps he had forgotten its name a long time ago.

He had never seen something like this.

No. He had seen it once, somewhere very far away, a long time ago. Before some morning.

The bony fingers atop the velvet cushion slowly curled.

...

Erik turned back toward Zeka.

"You felt it too, didn’t you?"

Zeka did not reply.

"Last time, you said that light only needed to be bright enough to keep this tower standing." Erik looked at the shattered crystals beneath his feet, then at the newly widened cracks in the ceiling. "Today, even this tower shook. The protective dome grows weaker by the day, Zeka. Faster than any of us expected. When it collapses, these walls will not shield you either."

He paused for a moment.

"Are you really not going to change your mind?"

The room fell silent.

Zeka looked at him for a long time. Then he slowly closed his eyes.

"No."

His voice returned to its high and slow cadence, flat as stagnant water.

"The light is still on. The tower still stands. One falling chandelier does not prove anything."

Erik said nothing more. He had expected that answer.

"But..." Zeka slightly raised one finger. "There is no need to wait another three days. Tomorrow morning, the Council’s group will wait for you at the northern gate of the city."

Erik raised an eyebrow.

He would not change his mind about the sky dome, yet he was eager to move the expedition forward by two days. Erik glanced at the white brows that had not fully relaxed, at the fingers still clenched against the velvet cushion.

The old man was afraid.

He simply refused to admit it.

"All right," Erik said. "Tomorrow morning."

...

Erik walked toward the door. Meira and Laviana flanked him on both sides. Runi had picked up the teapot and silently followed behind, walking a little closer to him this time.

Before crossing the threshold, Erik glanced back.

The vast room was littered with shattered crystal. Light from the remaining lamps on the walls flickered, only enough to illuminate the gold-plated chair in the center.

Zeka still sat there with his eyes tightly closed.

Many people surrounded him. Succubi holding his hair. Succubi holding his hands. Two rows of Succubi kneeling along the walls, their heads bowed close to the ground. Yet no one looked at him. No one dared look at him.

Viper had returned to the corner of the room where she always stood. Only several steps away from the chair, yet an expanse of cold emptiness seemed to lie between them.

Her eyes were not on her master, but silently following the door. Following the maid holding the teapot behind Erik.

In a room filled with so many people, Zeka still sat alone.

Alone in the darkness, upon the chair he had built for himself.

Erik withdrew his gaze and walked out.

The golden doors slowly closed behind him.

On his chest, the silver-white petal still carried a trace of cold, like the crying beneath the snow had yet to fade completely.

Spring, whose remaining power slept within Felyn’s body. Summer, perhaps Saraya. Winter, directly beneath his feet, within the tower of someone willing to watch this entire city die.

Three out of four.

Only Autumn remained.