Chương 242: Chapter : 242

We got it, Iris said. Her voice cracked on the second word, but she did not care. Let us go home and save Luna. Ken yawned and stretched. Finally, he said. Can we take that jungle carriage on the way back? My legs are filing a formal complaint. Naomi threw a skipping stone at him. He ducked it effortlessly, which was either very lucky or very suspicious, and grinned with that infuriating, lazy smile that made her want to scream and laugh at the same time.

The 13th Unit gathered their things and began the trek back through the jungle. Behind them, the Sacred Waterfall roared on, guarding the deep forest. Somewhere beyond the curtain of water, a white deer walked through ancient trees, its horn still glowing faintly, a guardian that had chosen, for one moment, to be a guardian of something even more precious than the forest. Hope.

The carriage rolled through the gates of the 13th Unit estate just as the sun was beginning to set. The journey back from the Silverleaf Jungle had taken two full days of hard travel, with barely any rest stops and no room for delay. The Glayin horn fragment sat in a padded box on Iris lap, wrapped in layers of soft cloth, glowing faintly through the fabric like a small, warm star. Iris had not let go of the box once during the entire trip.

She had held it while she slept, propped up against the carriage wall with the box clutched to her chest. She had held it while she ate, balancing it on her knees. She had held it when the carriage hit a rut and everyone was thrown sideways, and the only thing she cared about was whether the box was still safe. The other girls had taken turns watching over her, making sure she ate and drank and did not fall asleep with her face in the box. Naomi had finally convinced her to rest by offering to hold the box herself.

Iris had handed it over with the reluctance of a mother parting from her child, and then had fallen asleep within thirty seconds. Naomi had watched all of this with quiet respect. The princess was young, and she carried burdens that no girl her age should have to carry. But she carried them without complaint. That was the kind of person Iris was. The kind who held on, no matter how heavy the weight. The estate was quiet when they arrived. Too quiet.

The front courtyard, which normally bustled with servants and guards and the general chaos of a household that contained eight young women and one very lazy young man, was empty. The windows were dark. The front door was closed. Something is wrong, Zinia said. Her voice was flat and certain, the voice of a warrior who had learned to trust her instincts. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

The estate should not be this quiet at dusk, Sayma added, pushing her glasses up and scanning the dark windows. Even on a normal evening, there would be lights in the kitchen and the sound of servants finishing their duties. This silence was wrong. It was the silence of a house that was holding its breath. Ira was already out of the carriage, her water mana gathering at her fingertips. Laxmi had her fists raised. Naomi had both daggers drawn before her feet touched the ground. The front door opened. Dr.

Chiha stood in the doorway, his white hair disheveled, his face drawn and gray with exhaustion. But when he saw the box in Iris arms, something changed in his old eyes. A spark. A flicker of hope that had been on the verge of dying. You found it, Chiha said. His voice cracked on the second word. You actually found it. Is Luna alive? Iris asked. Her own voice was barely above a whisper. She is alive. The suppression is still holding, but barely. The Blue Decay has reached her mana channels.

Another day, perhaps two, and it will break through. Come. Quickly. They followed Chiha through the dark hallways at a run. The estate felt like a tomb. Every curtain was drawn. Every lamp was dimmed. The air was heavy with the smell of medicinal herbs and the faint, sickly sweet odor of corrupted mana. It was the smell of Blue Decay, and it was stronger than it had been when they left. Much stronger. The suppression spell was failing.

They could feel it in the air, a low, oppressive pressure that made their skin crawl and their mana churn uneasily. Luna room was at the end of the hall. The door was open. Inside, the curtains were drawn tight, blocking out all light except for a single candle on the nightstand. Its flame was blue. Not the warm, natural blue of a gas flame, but the cold, unnatural blue of corrupted mana. The Blue Decay was so advanced now that it was affecting the environment itself.

Luna lay on the bed, her small form almost lost beneath the blankets. Her silver hair was spread across the pillow like moonlight. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and the blue veins were visible everywhere now. Not just on her neck. They traced patterns across her arms, her hands, her face, pulsing with their sickly light. Her breathing was shallow and slow, the breathing of someone who was very close to the edge. Sayma placed her hand over her mouth. Laxmi turned away, her fists clenched.

Zinia jaw tightened. Ira stared at the bed with her usual blank expression, but her hands were trembling. Risa stood in the doorway, clutching her teddy bear, her green eyes huge and wet with unshed tears. Iris walked to the bed. She set the box down gently on the nightstand and opened it. The golden light of the Glayin horn fragment filled the room, pushing back the cold blue glow of the Decay.

It was warm and clean and alive, and the moment it appeared, the candle flame flickered and returned to its normal orange color. How do we use it? Iris asked Chiha. The horn must be ground into a fine powder and dissolved in pure spring water, Chiha said. He was already reaching for his mortar and pestle. The resulting solution must be applied directly to the mana channels. The purification will be immediate, but it will also be violent. The Decay will fight back. She will need someone to hold her steady.

I will hold her, Iris said immediately. So will I, Naomi said, stepping forward. And I, Zinia added. Chiha nodded. He placed the horn fragment in the mortar and began to grind. The golden light intensified with each turn of the pestle, and the sound it made was like a bell being struck, over and over, a clear, pure note that resonated through the room and out into the hallway beyond.