Compared to the desolate wastelands, Mura’s defensive preparations were not ideal. However, it was far too late to voice any complaints about that. The residents of Mura walked around with gloomy expressions, aware that their city lacked even a proper wall.

Once you left the wastelands and entered the empire’s mainland, the weather shifted dramatically. In Mura, the summer heat, which could not be felt in the wastelands, now became an oppressive force, tormenting the soldiers.

Amidst the greenery and the buzzing of insects, soldiers were busy setting up barricades at the front line. Mages were developing tactical spells, and knights were meditating and training to hone their skills to their peak. Watching them were Count Ray Agon, the lord of Mura, the Frontier Lord, and Theodora.

"Thank you for accepting our citizens," said the Frontier Lord.

Those citizens, now refugees, had scattered to different regions alongside Mura’s own displaced populace. Count Agon nodded humbly.

"It was my duty as a noble of the kingdom. There’s no need for your thanks."

"Were there any issues?" asked the Frontier Lord.

"The citizens have been diligent and honest. I almost feel like I didn’t do enough for them," Count Agon replied, glancing at the weary faces of the Frontier Lord and Theodora. They didn’t just look tired; it seemed as though fatigue was etched deep into their bones. The knights' natural resilience was likely the only thing keeping them going. Had Count Agon been in their shoes, he might have collapsed long ago from exhaustion.

"You’ve been through a lot," Count Agon remarked, stroking his thick beard. Though he knew his territory would soon face devastation, he remained calm. Even though he wasn’t a knight or a mage, he took pride in having protected this region for so long.

The Frontier Lord shook her head at Count Agon’s words.

Not one of her subordinates had expressed a desire to retreat. They were determined to protect this land with their lives, believing it was more than they deserved after failing to defend the wastelands. They insisted on dying on the frontlines rather than retreating.

"The hardest part is yet to come," said the Frontier Lord in a low voice. Count Agon sighed as he saw the stormy expression on her face.

"...We could hear the explosions from here," Count Agon said cautiously. "Did something happen in that wasteland city?"

The Frontier Lord looked out the window. From Count Agon’s estate in Mura’s city center, she could see the road leading to the wastelands.

"We blew up the entire city."

Count Agon flinched in shock.

"How could you..."

Count Agon understood how difficult that decision must have been for the Frontier Lord. Faced with an enemy too powerful to fend off, she had chosen to sacrifice her territory, turning it into a grave for her foes rather than allowing it to be overrun.

"How?" he asked.

"We set explosive magic throughout the city. After the war 15 years ago, the royal family provided a great deal of support for such measures," the Frontier Lord explained, her brow furrowing.

"If you retreated all the way here, I assume the explosion failed," Count Agon said.

"I couldn’t confirm the result, but I can assure you that the Behemoth is still advancing."

The Frontier Lord’s certainty wasn’t reassuring. Count Agon’s expression hardened.

"Even after being caught in such an explosion?"

"The Behemoth isn’t something that can be killed by shortcuts."

That’s the nature of mythical beasts. The Frontier Lord acknowledged the fact calmly.

"In the end, everything fell to a single Behemoth. We were so prepared. The soldiers and knights had such confidence that they could face anything, that they could withstand any attack..." the Frontier Lord trailed off.

Count Agon let out a long sigh.

"Is it truly that powerful?"

"Whatever you’re imagining, it’s far worse," the Frontier Lord responded.

Count Agon closed his eyes, trying to picture what sort of monster it could be, but his imagination came up empty. He glanced out the window, where soldiers moved busily.

"When do you think the battle will start?"

"Not long now. Soon, the remaining monsters will advance alongside the Behemoth."

The Frontier Lord glanced at Count Agon.

"It would be wise for you to leave before it’s too late."

Count Agon nodded slowly, though with great difficulty.

"...Perhaps you’re right. I wouldn’t be of much help in the battle anyway."

After a moment, Count Agon squared his shoulders.

"But how can I leave my soldiers here to fight these monsters while I flee? My family is already safe in the capital, so I will stay and fight alongside them."

Theodora, who had been quietly listening, narrowed her eyes as she looked at Count Agon. The Frontier Lord glanced at Theodora, inwardly impressed by the sharpness in her gaze.

"My lord," Theodora addressed him.

"Yes, Lady Bening?" Count Agon responded, using a title Theodora disliked but did not outwardly show her displeasure.

"The Frontier Lord is right. You should retreat to the rear, to the capital. It’s the wisest decision."

The Frontier Lord nodded silently in agreement, and Count Agon’s expression grew tense.

"I’ve already sent my successor to safety, and my soldiers remain. How could I leave them to fight while I retreat?"

"My lord, with all due respect, we can’t afford to spare a single soldier for your personal guard," Theodora said carefully.

Count Agon opened his mouth to argue but then closed it, knowing full well that she was right. It would be a waste to assign soldiers to protect him when they were desperately needed elsewhere.

He finally understood why the Frontier Lord had been forced to abandon her territory. He realized that his situation was no different from theirs—he had to set aside his pride as a noble.

After a long moment of contemplation, Count Agon nodded, his emotions mixed.

"Yes, it’s not just my territory at stake."

It wasn’t just about his land. It was about the entire kingdom and its people.

Count Agon gave a bitter smile. How many soldiers had the Frontier Lord and Theodora lost? How many deaths had they witnessed? He resolved to change his course of action.

"I will follow your advice, Frontier Lord. I’ve been too selfish. If I leave before the battle begins, it will be easier for you all to fight."

The Frontier Lord gave him a faint smile, and Count Agon, realizing he had made the right decision, sighed.

"Thank you for your understanding, my lord."

"It’s not easy leaving everything to you, but I suppose I have no choice."

Count Agon looked at the Frontier Lord and Theodora with a hint of guilt in his eyes. The Frontier Lord shook her head in response.

"Please, fight with all your might for this land."

The Frontier Lord responded calmly, "You needn’t worry."

"I won’t ask you to risk your lives. Just fight as best you can. If it gets too dangerous, you can retreat again," Count Agon said.

He asked if there was anything more he could do. The Frontier Lord shook her head.

"If you happen to see any reinforcements on your way, it would be helpful if you urged them to hurry," she added with a smile, making light of the dire situation. Count Agon chuckled at her joke.

"I’ll be sure to push them along if I see any."

He laughed heartily as he turned to leave, but there was a melancholy air about him. Before departing, he gave the Frontier Lord and Theodora a final look, offering a word of advice.

"Prepare for the battle as quickly as you can. You have no time to waste."

"Take care, my lord," the Frontier Lord said, nodding to him.

"Focus on the soldiers fighting on the frontlines. I don’t have much to lose."

Count Agon lingered at the door before resigning himself to opening it and stepping through.

"Good luck."

With that, Count Agon left the room.

"At least he didn’t put up more of a fight," the Frontier Lord muttered, staring at the closed door.

"Thank you for helping convince him, Theodora. I should have spoken more forcefully earlier."

Theodora didn’t respond immediately, gazing out the window instead. The Frontier Lord watched her in silence. Then, Theodora spoke.

"Do you think we’re ready, Frontier Lord?"

The Frontier Lord shook her head without hesitation.

"No. Even with reinforcements from across the kingdom, it’s hard to say we’re fully prepared."

She looked directly at Theodora.

"So, if you want to fight without regrets, it’s best to clear your heart of lingering attachments, don’t you think, Theodora?"

Theodora flinched slightly before nodding. The Frontier Lord studied her eyes, noticing how dark and clouded they had become. Theodora bit her lip, understanding what she had to do.

"Yes."

"Good. As long as you understand."

The Frontier Lord turned to leave. As she reached for the door, she glanced back at Theodora, who was clutching something tightly in her pocket.

"Don’t hesitate," she whispered to herself.

"I’ll head down first," the Frontier Lord said, exiting the room. Theodora nodded. It wasn’t just Count Agon who had made a decision that day.

As soon as Maxime returned to his quarters, he gasped for breath. This bout of pain seemed to last longer than usual.

Maybe this is how it’s going to be from now on.

He removed his outer layer and checked the scar. His fingers ran over the scarred skin, which remained numb. But beneath that skin, he felt a burning sensation, as though his flesh were being seared. It was bearable, but exhausting.

"How long will this last?"

Maxime’s question referred both to the current pain and to his life itself. He picked up his discarded shirt.

"Can I still fight?"

If he used his aura one more time, he knew it would be the end for him. Whether that end would be death or something else, he wasn’t sure.

Maxime put his shirt back on. While soldiers outside were busy fortifying their defenses, the knights were immersed in their own training. Paola was likely off somewhere, pushing her body to its limits.

Maxime had no real method of training left to him. His body was too worn down. He could only swing his sword a few times before exhaustion set in. For now, he had retreated to his room to check his worsening condition.

The enemy hadn’t been spotted yet, but during the retreat, he had clearly heard the enraged cries of the Behemoth. The instinct for survival had never felt more immediate.

Where is it now? Will we survive against that thing?

Maxime’s thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. It was a quiet, cautious knock. Definitely not Paola or Roberto. Maxime approached the door, curious.

"Who is it?"

When he opened the door, he found Theodora standing there. He had expected her to avoid him for a while longer. Why had she come?

What did she think of his expression? Theodora hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find her words.

"Maxime, I..."

"Theodora," he said, calling her name as if to ask why she was here. Only then did she relax, her expression softening as if she’d been worried about something.

"Would you like to come in?" Maxime asked.

Theodora nodded and stepped into the room.

"What brings you here?"

Maxime’s voice was calm as he asked. He had a pretty good idea of what Theodora had come to say.

"I just spoke with Count Agon," she began.

Maxime nodded, indicating for her to continue.

"...We talked about him returning to the capital."

Maxime nodded again, having expected as much.

"So, Count Agon agreed to your proposal."

"It wasn’t my proposal. It was the Frontier Lord’s, but yes, he accepted it."

Theodora corrected him, and Maxime raised an eyebrow.

"I’m different from Count Agon. At least I’m not a burden," Maxime said.

Theodora shook her head.

"That’s not what I mean, Maxime."

Her eyes, usually veiled in gray, now resembled storm clouds. Maxime waited for her to explain.

"I’m just worried about you."

For the first time, Maxime’s golden eyes wavered. Oh, Theodora, that’s not fair.

"I’m terrified of you being on the battlefield," she admitted, her voice shaking.

Maxime tried to maintain his composure as he replied.

"I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself—"

"I know you won’t," Theodora interrupted, her gaze stubborn, like the one she used to give him back when they were together.

"Theodora, I—"

"Maxime, you know you’re losing your memories, right?"

Theodora’s words struck him hard, and for a moment, Maxime was speechless.

"That’s..."

"Even if you survive, you know it won’t be truly living," Theodora continued, her voice pleading.

Maxime grasped for the remnants of his old self, desperately trying to push her away.

"No."

"Maxime, I’m scared. I’m scared of you losing everything, and I’m even more scared of having to watch it happen."

Theodora took Maxime’s hand. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away from her warmth.

"Maxime..."

"Theodora," he replied, squeezing her hand gently.

"I don’t want to lose anything either. But..."

Were her eyes shaking, too? Maxime lifted his head to meet Theodora’s gaze.

"I don’t want to lose you. Not if I can’t even be there to see it."

Something deep inside Theodora wavered. Her voice trembled as she spoke.

"...You’re not supposed to say things like that right now."

Tears welled in Theodora’s stormy eyes.

"Theodora," Maxime said, his voice almost a plea. Though she looked like she wanted to retreat, Theodora didn’t break eye contact. And then, just as Maxime, weakened by his condition, let his guard down completely—

"?!"

Theodora’s lips met his.

Maxime’s mind went blank as he accepted her kiss. Her lips were still soft and warm. Unable to push her away, Maxime kissed her back, their tongues entwining. Theodora’s hand slid down from his cheek to his neck.

The kiss was brief, but to Maxime, it felt like an eternity.

As he sat there, dazed, Theodora stood up. Suddenly, Maxime felt a sharp pain in his neck.

"Theodora...?"

His body grew weak. He tried to stand, but his eyelids became heavy. The pull of sleep was irresistible, dragging him down into the deepest darkness.

His vision blurred. Maxime fought the drowsiness with every ounce of willpower he had left, calling out to Theodora with a slurred voice. Standing behind her in the doorway was a familiar figure with long, golden hair.

"Christine...?"

And then, everything went black.