“According to the archaic texts, we will reach our destination if we keep moving northwest. It's just a hunch, but…” he commented in a raspy voice. Then he cleared his throat a little and added, “Maybe that pillar of light is where we should be heading. Whether it's a coincidence or fate, I think the chances that what I'm looking for will be there are very high.”

As he spoke, Elisha stretched out her hand toward the center of the table. After muttering a few words, a glowing blue circle appeared in the palm of her hand. Inside it was a square surrounded by symbols called runes, and in the center of everything, was drawn the silhouette of a myosotis, also known as forget-me-not, the emblematic flower of House Lezabel.

This runic blazon began to rotate clockwise, but neither the drinks nor the food showed any changes. After making sure they had not been poisoned, she proceeded to take a sip of her cup of apple-cinnamon tea, fervently hoping that the hilmir would call off the mission so they could return to Iabet once and for all.

Only then did Duman drink from his glass of juice, soothing the dryness in his throat. Not that he doubted Elisha in particular, rather, he trusted no one, except for his only close friend, Samael.

“How many days away, great hilmir?” Samael asked suddenly. His gaze had not been directed to the table for a moment, focusing his attention on the man sitting in front of him.

Calculating the distance, Duman deduced that it could take a little more than a day using the mounts, but by bringing Elisha and her servant with them, the travel time would be doubled.

“Three,” Duman answered succinctly, and his friend's face became stiffer than usual.

As soon as he finished the drink, he put the glass down to grab a salty appetizer, tossing it into his mouth in a single motion. The ingredients were not as good as those used in his palace, so the taste was unpleasant to his palate. His face, however, remained impassive, but he did not turn his attention back to the food.

“With all due respect, great hilmir, it is uncertain whether that pillar of light will lead us to the scepter. In my opinion, it's too risky,” Samael objected. “Even the beasts have been driven away by the amount of aether that has accumulated in that area. Although the situation is advantageous for us right now, we do not know when the beasts will attack us again, or in the worst case, perhaps they are just waiting for us to lower our guard to ambush us.”

Duman listened patiently to the general as he played with the handle of the teacup. After all, his worries were not unwarranted. Although the idea of entering the rainforest was reckless for everyone, including him, this was a risk he was willing to take if it meant gaining unimaginable power.

Certainly, this setback was not in his calculations, but his ambition was much greater than his fear, so he would not back down, especially being so close to his goal.

And, to be honest, that huge pillar of light gave him a strange feeling. After seeing it, longing and restlessness rose from deep in his chest, pushing him to continue despite the danger. 

“Besides, if we continue venturing beyond the Deev River, it will become more dangerous for you and Her Eminence,” the general added, referring to Elisha, who had lost her appetite after hearing that they had to go further into the rainforest.

“If you, the general of the Second Legion of the Disir army, are unable to keep a small group of five people safe, then what would the thousands of warriors you lead think? Besides, Sir Zagan and I don't need protection,” Duman argued calmly as he rose from his seat, a gesture that the conversation was concluded. “We will leave in fifteen minutes following the appointed route.”

The hilmir left the tent and Samael followed him. The conversation continued, but the men's voices were muffled by the fabric, rendering the content of the discussion unintelligible. Inside the tent, only Elisha, her maid, and her escort were left behind.

Mara guessed that Elisha would not be in a good mood after hearing the horrible news, so she hurried to finish tidying up and then removed the things on the table in the same way she had taken them out. For convenience, she also suggested changing her attire for a riding one. 

Elisha snorted with annoyance, outraged by Duman's attitude, and she reluctantly agreed to change. The thin, soft silk dress was replaced by a shorter one made of cotton that was tied around at the shoulders and cinched at the waist, highlighting her slender figure. The neckline adequately covered her chest but left her pronounced collarbones exposed. Underneath, a petticoat wrapped her legs for added security.

Next, Mara braided the top half of Elisha's navy blue hair and arranged it as a crown around her head, letting the other half fall in waves to her waist.

As much as Elisha was aware of the reasons why the hilmir was hell-bent on obtaining the scepter, this did not alleviate the anxiety and fatigue that tormented her body and mind after several nights of poor-quality sleep.

After years of being pampered by the members of the Creed, who were at her beck and call, and the comforts they provided, there was no way her current lifestyle could keep up with her demands.

Elisha desperately needed to appease her grumpiness and she knew exactly who to turn to.

Hours went by and the pillars of light vanished without a trace. However, the amount of aether that had accumulated deep in the rainforest was almost tangible, so the beasts remained hidden until late into the night in the possible event that this mass of aether became a threat.

Taking advantage of the situation, the five-person team readied their mounts and quickly advanced northwestward. When Elisha finally couldn't handle the fatigue and hunger, they decided to stop for the day and set up camp before dark.

After Zagan activated a defensive barrier around the area that Samael had designated as safe, Mara continued to pitch the tents with the paladin's help while the other three members rested and dined.

Darkness reigned over the rainforest, making it eerily silent.

When everyone seemed to be asleep, the slender silhouette of a woman slipped out of one of the tents, walking stealthily until she stopped at the entrance of the tent located at the other end.

Before she could say anything, the fabric at the entrance was pulled aside by a large hand, revealing a man's burly body. His torso was bare, displaying his firm muscles formed after rigorous training along with scars of past battles. His apricot hair was wet, and tiny droplets of water slid down his curls to his shoulder and chest.

The woman slipped inside silently and the man closed the entrance to prevent interruptions. Unusual noises began to be heard after a while. The soft moans of a woman were muffled by something, accompanied by the low growls of a man.

While the noises were increasing, another man of average height and slender body appeared standing outside the tent, in a place where his presence went unnoticed thanks to the darkness and his excellent stealth abilities.

His long purple hair tied in a high ponytail revealed his exotic features, but he no longer appeared as indifferent as before. Repulsion and indignation were blatant on his pale face. His slanted eyes no longer looked at the ground, glaring fiercely in the darkness as he clenched his fists tightly, making the veins on the back of his hands stand out.

Disgusted with the noises polluting his ears, Zagan walked around the tent noiselessly, familiarly etching different runes into the ground. When the last rune was drawn, all the sigils glowed dimly and a transparent dome surrounded the tent. Finally, the unpleasant sounds disappeared.

As the hours passed, Zagan couldn't help but think bitterly about how he got to his current situation.

Years ago, when he was assigned the task of protecting the apostle, happiness and pride had filled the fifteen-year-old paladin.

After years of arduous training within the Sacred Creed, he had finally earned his place among the best paladins at an early age for his great talent with runic incantations, both defensive and offensive, thus managing to be the bodyguard of an entity as sacred as the apostle.

He still remembered vividly when his gaze first met a pair of pale pink eyes. The conviction that he was facing a true delegate of the eloah crossed his mind. From that day on, he swore to fervently serve and protect the twelve-year-old girl who had finally shown her face for the first time in front of the citizens of the kingdom.

According to legends and some ancient writings, the eloah venerated throughout the continent have certain characteristics that identify them, one of these being heterochromia. Until now, there were no records of anyone being born with heterochromatic eyes, but with hair of one of the two colors that represented a certain eloah.

In the Hathor kingdom, the ‘Eloah of Spring’, a deity of nature and water, was the most revered among the citizens. This was because the land where the kingdom was settled had been blessed by her, and for this reason, it had a mild climate throughout the year and never suffered droughts.

The colors magenta and green represented this eloah, and as expected, Vikram's descendants were not only born with green hair but were the only flora and aqua elementalists.

As a custom, the monarchs of other kingdoms and empires venerated the eloah who was the true owner of the lands, and they also possessed characteristics that made them the delegates of these divine beings.

Thirteen years ago, young Elisha, who had been born with orange eyes, awakened the extraordinary power of purification after a visit to the temple of the Sacred Creed and her eyes changed color to a pinkish hue. This was an unprecedented event that boosted the fame of the Sacred Creed, increasing the number of visits and donations to its temples after the apostle's appearance.

However, Zagan's devotion to this apostle evaporated as time went by.

Elisha, who at first appeared humble and benevolent, changed little by little, with Zagan and Mara witnessing how her mask began to crack until it fell to pieces. 

Arrogant actions and poisonous words conveyed with craftiness under the false image of docility and virtue, that was the true identity of Elisha Lezabel. And Zagan, a fervent believer in the doctrines of the Sacred Creed, could not accept that the alleged apostle of his revered eloah was the lustful viper now wallowing with the general of the Second Legion.