Lilieth followed Sibeiya as she led the way to Artemest. Like she had said, Spearman really did live in seclusion. His house was deep inside the forest, built next to a pristine lake. He even had a small little garden, where he grew all kinds of exotic vegetables and fruit.

  There was no path to his house, so it would’ve been easy to get lost if you didn’t know the way, hence why Spearman had Sibeiya guide her out. Sibeiya didn’t seem all that pleased with that decision, judging by the frown on her face.

  “Guillem Spearman ... who is he exactly?” Lilieth asked.

  Sibeiya turned back to look at her, her brows furrowed. She didn’t seem to expect a conversation to take place. Still, she answered, “beats me. Master never talks much about himself. All I know is that he lives here, and he’s damned strong.”

  “Master ... Do you train under him?”

  Sibeiya clicked her tongue. “Obviously.”

  Lilieth was a bit taken aback by her tone. Well, this is going to be a pleasant walk, she thought.

  “These clothes I’m wearing,” Lilieth said. “Are they yours?”

  “Yep.”

  “Thank you very much. I’ll return them to you, as soon as I buy some new ones.”

  “No need, just keep them.”

  “Oh. Then, I can give you some money for—”

  “Don’t need money, either.”

  Another uncomfortable silence descended upon them as they walked over tree roots and bushes.

  “Is there any news about what happened at Zusa?”

  “No.”

  “Did Ver—did they defeat the beast?”

  “Wouldn’t know.”

  “What about—”

  “Look,” Sibeiya turned to Lilieth as she interrupted her. “There are a lot more people in Artemest you could ask who’d know a lot more than me, so you should save your questions until then, yeah?”

  Without waiting for a response, Sibeiya continued walking, this time a bit faster than before.

  Pleasant.

  Eventually, and in silence, the two of them reached Artemest city. They entered a side gate, watched only by a single guard. The guard eyed Lilieth, but after seeing Sibeiya, he just let the two of them through.

  “No inspection?” Lilieth whispered.

  “Master is a bit well-known in Artemest,” Sibeiya replied. “Never visits the city himself, but he and any of his students are just allowed to enter and leave the city whenever they want.”

  “Is that so? Who is he, really?”

  “Beats me. The guards don’t know either. Said they were just ordered to or something. And I never bother to ask Master.”

  The walk continued for a while.

  “Actually, I did ask,” Sibeiya suddenly continued, almost sounding embarrassed. “No luck getting an answer out of him, though.”

  Guillem Spearman. Lilieth made a note to find out what she could about him, if only to sate her curiosity.

  After passing through the gate, they finally entered Artemest proper. Among the Krysanthian megalopoleis, Artemest was on the larger side. Not as big as the capital, Zusa, but its size was no joke. They walked through Artemest’s streets, so similar to Zusa, yet with its own little differences here and there. In the distance, towards the center of the city, stood a tall tower housing one of the Greatbells. Krysanth had seventeen of them, all spread out across the country. Each megalopoleis had at least one. Zusa was the only exception, as it had seven.

  Lilieth heard that apprentice priestesses of Hestareia the Valor, goddess of heroes, had to go through a pilgrimage, visiting each megalopoleis and praying to all seventeen Greatbells, before being accepted as a full-fledged priestess. Once, Lilieth had thought that was a beautiful custom. Now, she couldn’t help but think of it all as a sham. Why pray when the gods won’t listen to a single word of it?

  The bustle of the city was vibrant, and the streets were rather crowded. Lilieth’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the various decorations scattered throughout. Colorful banners hung across lines tied from building to building, flowers placed across every window. What stood out most was the number of warriors that walked around. Swordsmen, archers, martial artists ... it was an assortment of fighters.

  Then she saw a banner hung in the distance, the words “51st Relic Festival” displayed on it. It was an unfamiliar term.

  Eventually they arrived at a quaint open-air restaurant. A myriad of scents assailed her instantly. Grilled meats, cheese, fresh bread ... too many scents for her to list. Considering it’s been days since she’s last eaten a proper meal, her stomach rejoiced at it all.

  There were less fighters in this part of the city, which was nice. To be honest, she didn’t want to eat while smelling all that sweat. Why do so many of them have to be shirtless? She never understood that.

  “Nice place, yeah?” Sibeiya said, then turned around and walked. “Anyhow, my work here is done. See ya.”

  “Wait,” Lilieth said. “Let me treat you.”

  Sibeiya stopped. “Treat me?”

  “To a meal. As thanks for lending me your clothes.”

  “There’s, uh, really no need.”

  “I insist.”

  “I insist that there’s no need,” Sibeiya said forcefully. “Look, I’m not looking to make friends. I’m busy, I have things to prepare for.”

  “It’s not like I’m trying to make friends either.” Especially not after what my last group of “friends” did to me, she thought. “But you did save me, and you lent me your clothes. I need to repay you somehow.”

  Sibeiya scoffed. “I didn’t ‘save’ you. You fixed yourself back up. And it’s not like I’m hungry or anything, so—”

  Their conversation was interrupted by a couple walking between them, entering the restaurant.

  “I hear today’s special is slow-roasted lamb,” one of them said excitedly.

  “Like the one we had last week? Those are to die for!” the other replied.

  The two passed, continuing their cheery conversation. Sibeiya stopped talking, but her expression seemed ... strained.

  “You want it?” Lilieth asked.

  “...Want what.”

  “Slow-roasted lamb.”

  There was a long silence as another pair of people passed by them.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Just so we’re clear, this is only because I don’t want you nagging me all the time, alright?” Sibeiya said as she took a bite of the slow-roasted lamb, her face a bit red.

  “Right,” Lilieth said, calmly eating her own plate.

  She got the same meal, and suffice to say, she could only describe it as heavenly. Though, any food would taste like the god’s own nectar if you ate it while starved.

  “So what’s with this ‘Relic Festival’?” Lilieth asked.

  “Said I wasn’t looking to make friends,” Sibeiya replied.

  “...Mm.”

  Lilieth took another bite of her meal. The juices were savory and sweet. She could taste a hint of lemon in there.

  “It’s more of a tournament than a festival,” Sibeiya suddenly spoke. “Artemest holds it once a year, and fighters from all around come to participate.”

  “I thought you weren’t looking to make friends.”

  “The silence was uncomfortable, is all.”

  “Uh, right.” Lilieth didn’t really know how to read her, except that she didn’t seem like the social type. “So, you’re participating in this festival?”

  Sibeiya still seemed like she was in a bad mood, but she nodded. “Master’s orders, and all. We only graduate if we at least make it to the semifinals. Said it’s our ‘final test’ or something.”

  “Sounds rough.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Another silence fell upon them as they ate. Lilieth’s attention was draw to the street, where she saw a bit of commotion. A large wagon was being drawn, and on it, a red wyvern inside a cage, against the bars. Its mouth was locked shut by an iron chains, and its wings were similarly bound.

  “Urgh, a wyvern,” Sibeiya grimaced, then looked away. She looked tense all of a sudden. “L-looks like they captured one. Those things are pretty common around here as of late.”

  “Common? That’s strange,” Lilieth replied. “And what’s with that reaction?”

  “What reaction?” she replied, even as she began taking deep breaths. It was an all-too familiar sight, one that Lilieth’s seen many times before.

  “Are you ... afraid of wyverns?” she asked.

  “Huh?! Afraid? Who’s afraid?!” Sibeiya glared at her. “I’m not afraid of some flying lizards, alright? It’s just ... I don’t like them, is all. Besides, they’re all reds. No big deal.”

  “You say that, but you’re refusing to look at it...”

  Wyverns were distant cousins to the dragons. Nowhere near as dangerous, but they tended to travel in packs. The color of their hides were a pretty good indicator of how strong they were, with red being the weakest.

  “I’ve seen purple wyverns before,” Lilieth said. “They’re a bit larger, and far more agile.”

  Sibeiya’s shoulders tensed up further when she said that. She glared at Lilieth. “Oh really? A bit hard to believe, but honestly, I could see it. Did you die to one or something?”

  “...No.”

  After all, there was always someone there to save her. She was part of a hero’s party for a few years, and she’s encountered all manner of dangerous beast. Even dragons. But she never had to fight them a single time, because someone else always fought in her place. That’s right. Whenever Lilieth was in danger, she would always be there to save her, flying through the air.

  If Lilieth had been stronger, would things have been different? Maybe the party wouldn’t have done what they did if she was of more value to them. If she was able to fight. Even if they still made the same decision, she would’ve been able to fight beside that person’s side. And she wouldn’t have ... wouldn’t...

  Don’t remember.

  It was pointless to think of things like that now. There was no use thinking about what things would change if she got stronger. The best thing to do is head back home, to Hesperus. Settle down.

  —But that didn’t sit right with her.

  “Miss Sibeiya, can I ask you something?”

  “What?”

  “Suppose, for instance, that you were part of an adventurer’s party for a few years. But then, that same party betrays you, and leaves you for dead. What would you do next?”

  Sibeiya looked at her as if she was crazy. “What else is there to do? I’d hunt them down and kick their asses.”

  Lilieth’s eyes widened. There was no hesitation in that answer. No doubt. When she said it like that, it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world. So why hadn’t Lilieth thought of it before?

  “...Even if they’re stronger than you?” Lilieth asked.

  To that, Sibeiya almost seemed offended. “That’s not an excuse. If they’re stronger than you, then just train until you’re stronger than them. Then kick their asses. Besides, you wouldn’t catch me in that sort of situation in the first place.”

  Lilieth stared at her food, half-finished. Was that path possible for her? Was she allowed to pursue that? She’s never had such ...violent thoughts before.

  Revenge? But what can someone like her do? She doesn’t know the first thing about fighting.

  That’s not an excuse.

  “I...”

  Before Lilieth could say anything else, she heard a scream. She turned her head just in time to see the red wyvern burst out of its cage and charge through the streets. People scattered in panic as the beast thrashed, trying to free itself from its chains.

  Nearby, a young boy tripped, falling to the ground. The wyvern continued to rampage, and its path was heading towards that child.

  Lilieth stood up, her blood beginning to rush. Someone needed to save him. But Lilieth’s body didn’t do anything. It didn’t move, it didn’t act.

  And she realized why. Because this was what she was doing her entire life. Standing there, while someone else saved the day.

  The hero’s party wasn’t here. They weren’t going to come. Lilieth was Blessed, she was stronger than most people. So why wasn’t she doing anything? It’s just a red wyvern.

  Then she looked at the wyvern’s eyes, and every inch of her body froze. That intense, beastly glare. Those sharp talons. If she got close, she’d be torn to pieces. And she knew, firsthand, what that felt like.

  Lilieth was afraid. She couldn’t help that she was afraid. Yes, because it couldn’t be helped—

  “I’m borrowing this!”

  Sibeiya grabbed one of the restaurant’s chairs, ran forward, and threw it towards the beast. The chair whizzed through the air and crashed against the wyvern’s head, shattering into many pieces. The wyvern turned its attention away from the young boy, and towards the running Sibeiya. It began to charge towards her as well.

  The beast swung at her with its claws, and Sibeiya just barely dodged. She threw a punch straight at its torso, connecting with a loud boom as the air rippled from the force of the impact. The beast stumbled back, blood spurting out its enclosed jaw.

  Lilieth gaped. Sibeiya was that strong?

  She positioned herself in between the wyvern and the young boy, who had now stood up and was running to safety. While the beast was dazed, Sibeiya charged back in, throwing punch after punch, kick after kick. Each one hitting with a force greater than what her body should’ve been capable of.

  She had to be Blessed. There was no way you could get that strong with a normal body. A Martialmage, then? But she hadn’t chanted any spells yet. To use a spell, you had to first chant out its name. There were exceptions, but that was generally the rule. So where was Sibeiya getting all that strength from?

  Then she realized. Orange hair, dark skin ... those were the traits of a certain race of people that lived in the harsh deserts of the north. A race of warrior nomads who were known for their great strength and combat prowess. It was said that they were born with skin as tough as leather, with bones as hard as steel, and with muscles that brimmed with innate power.

  The Shebauno, they were called. The nomads of the largest, most inhospitable desert in all of Nomena. The man they called the “strongest hero of the modern age”, Kalaman Kampus the Dragonslayer, was a Shebauno as well.

  The fight continued, with Sibeiya landing blow after blow, all while dodging the beast’s flurry of attacks. And yet, the battle was getting no close to resolution. Sibeiya was losing her ground.

  “Damnit! If only I had a weapon with me...!”Sibeiya grunted. Then her eyes lit up, as if she had an epiphany. She turned to Lilieth and shouted, “Give me your sword! Hurry!”

  Lilieth snapped out of her stupor, and reached for the longsword, strapped to her waist. One of the two she brought with her from the cave. She unlatched it from her belt and ran forward.

  The wyvern lashed its tail, swinging it at Sibeiya. She managed to dodge, but the tail scraped against the road, flinging pieces of cement all around.

  Lilieth stopped in her tracks. If she were to get closer, there was no way she’d be able to dodge an attack like that. Her legs were stuck in place at that realization. Sibeiya waited for her to bring the sword as she held the beast back, distracting it from targeting the other civilians.

  All she needed to do was bring the sword to her, but her own body wouldn’t listen.

  Useless! Useless! Can’t you even do this much?!

  She berated herself in her mind, but it did little to help. The beast was gaining the upper hand. At this rate...

  What happened to La Logia was your fault, by the way.

  Entirely your fault.

  Those spiteful words played in her head again. Even now, they mocked her. Why can’t she forget?

  “DAMNIT—!”

  Its tail struck Sibeiya’s shoulder, knocking her off balance. In the next instance, it raised its claws above her, and swung down.

  Lilieth closed her eyes, so she wouldn’t have to see. So she wouldn’t have to remember.

  She heard the sound of slicing. Just a single slice.

  And when she opened her eyes, she saw the wyvern’s head fall to the ground, severed from its own neck.

  “—Huh?”

  Her eyes focused, and suddenly there was a new figure between Sibeiya and the wyvern. A blonde man wearing regal clothes, his cape billowing through the air. His longsword was stained with the wyvern’s blood.

  The beast fell to the ground, unmoving.

  After that brief instant of silence, all of the people around began to clamor in joy.

  “Lord Valery! Lord Valery!”

  “He’s returned!”

  “Thank you, my lord!”

  Lilieth was familiar with the name. Each of the megalopoleis was ruled by an archon, who served as the city’s governor. Valery Kastrionis was the son of Artemest’s archon, and a Second tier Blessed.

  “Looks like I made it just in time!” Valery spoke, his voice regal yet friendly. He turned to a retinue of guards that were running to catch up to him. “Search for anyone who’s injured. And send word to the Order, tell them what happened.”

  Valery began issuing orders. The people all looked at him with awe and adoration. Sibeiya, standing back up, had a frustrated expression on her face.

  But Lilieth’s eyes were not on him. They were on his longsword.

  “Why...” she whispered, her voice too low to be heard.

  Her eyes were wide, so wide they almost popped out of her skull. She could feel herself shaking, her breath getting unsteady.

  “Why...?”

  Valery Kastrionis, turning to his people with a smile, raised his blade above him in a sign of victory. An ornate blade, bifurcated down the middle. In the center of the sword’s cross-guard was an orange gem.

  The people’s cheers were drowned out by the turmoil in Lilieth’s head.

  There was no doubt about it.

  “Why does he have that...?!”

  That sword was one of the twelve.