Lucian was startled by the woman's presence.
His body tensed for a moment, eyes sharpening—alert. His gaze stayed locked on the woman standing several meters away. His mind quickly filled with questions:
"How did she know I was here? It even feels like she's been waiting for me…" he thought.
His pulse began to rise; instinct urged him to turn and flee. His foot shifted subtly backward, ready to spring.
But…
"No need to run."
The woman's voice was calm, yet carried an unwavering confidence.
"I only want to talk to you."
Lucian froze. He realized—running wasn't an option.
The ache in his chest—lingering since last night—still hadn't faded. Even as he considered escaping, the pain returned, sharp and punishing, reminding him of his limits.
He took a steady breath, calming his thoughts, and finally gave a slight nod.
"Alright," he said quietly. "I can't run either."
His gaze remained sharp, but now there was a touch of composure in his expression. This conversation… could change the course of his search.
But Lucian didn't respond to the woman right away.
He turned and walked into a nearby bakery, as though brushing off the silent threat hanging in the air. He bought a pastry, slipped it into a paper bag, then stepped back outside.
The woman was still there, watching him with a calm but cold expression.
Lucian nodded toward a wooden bench not far away, beside a small shack near the bakery.
"Let's talk there."
They walked in silence until they sat facing each other, separated only by a small, weathered wooden table.
The woman spoke first, her voice flat and firm:
"You took something from the Narami library. A spellbook.
I want to negotiate. Hand it over peacefully."
Lucian chewed his pastry slowly, his eyes drifting blankly into the distance before finally turning to her with a neutral expression.
"So, if I refuse?" he asked calmly.
The woman smiled faintly—a smile stripped of warmth.
"I will kill you," she replied coldly.
Lucian raised an eyebrow, then let out a soft chuckle—not from amusement, but because he could tell she wasn't bluffing. He lifted the pastry bag and leaned back in his chair.
"I could give it to you… but I have one condition."
The woman narrowed her eyes, her stare sharp but unreadable.
"Fine. What's your condition?" she asked in an even tone.
Lucian stared at her for several seconds without answering. He looked like he was thinking, but in truth, he was observing her reactions—searching for cracks, weighing whether this was a trap or a genuine negotiation.
Finally, he spoke softly:
"I want to know your purpose in obtaining that spellbook.
Or at least… who's desperate enough to want that cursed book."
The woman didn't answer right away. She merely smiled faintly, as if she had expected that question.
"An interesting request…
But aren't you also hiding your true identity?"
Lucian shrugged.
"I don't need to know who you are… unless you're planning to kill me here."
The woman leaned slightly forward, her face drawing closer to his, that unfriendly smile still playing on her lips.
"If I wanted to kill you…
I wouldn't have invited you to sit and talk."
Lucian smirked faintly.
"That's why we're both here—smiling, while hiding our blades."
"She's also beautiful when she's serious," he muttered under his breath.
A silence fell between them. Only the sounds of the marketplace and the footsteps of passersby lingered in the background. The two of them sat like shadows, testing each other behind veiled words.
Finally, the woman said,
"You'll get your answer… after I get the book."
She sheathed a small knife.
Lucian leaned back in his chair, feigning ease, though his eyes remained cautious.
"And if I lie?"
The woman simply smiled again.
"Then I'll hunt you down and kill you."
Her threat lingered in the air like cold mist. Her tone was calm, but sharp—death felt only a word away. The mood around them shifted. People still passed by in the distance, but to Lucian, the world had narrowed to just the two of them in a sealed space of tension.
For a moment, he met her gaze. There was no doubt—if he broke the agreement, his life would truly be forfeit.
"Fine, whatever," Lucian finally muttered, taking a casual bite of his pastry.
But his eyes revealed no hint of surrender.
The woman only glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable.
Lucian slowly rose from his chair, brushing dust from his clothes. Without another word, he walked away, leaving behind the scent of warm pastry and the tension that still clung to the air.
But before he got too far, he stopped. Still facing away from her, his voice came—quiet and flat.
"What's your name?"
The woman lifted her head slightly and replied without hesitation.
"Hana Voltiane."
Lucian said nothing. That name—still vague in his half-recovered memory—felt unfamiliar… and yet somehow unnerving.
He continued walking, feet steady on the cobblestone path, fading into the growing crowd.
But his mind was anything but calm.
Hana Voltiane.
He would remember that name—not only because of her threat, but because behind her calm facade, Lucian knew… she was hiding far more than just strength.
Tonight, he planned to return to that place—with her.
Not just to fulfill a promise, but to find the truth about the curse-breaking book, and perhaps more importantly—the soul magic storage book, a key to discovering who had truly taken control of his body and soul.
His steps were steady, but his mind was restless.
Because in this world, a name could mean life… or destruction.
...
Several hours passed.
Night descended, cloaking the sky in cold mist and long shadows. The clock struck midnight as Lucian stood once more in the place where he and Hana Voltiane had sat and spoken.
Few words passed between them.
Only a single look—enough to show they both knew what needed to be done.
A few minutes later, they began moving toward Narami.
Lucian walked with calm steps, but each one felt heavier than the last. The city buildings melded with the mist, swallowing them like smoke in the wind. Their forms drifted like shadows, blending with the night.
Upon reaching the Victoria Kingdom—grand and well-defended—Narami stood tall like a fortress. But now, it was no longer unguarded. The number of sentries had doubled. Every corner burned bright with magic lanterns. There wasn't a single gap left unguarded.
Lucian narrowed his eyes.
"Too many guards… just the two of us—too risky," he muttered.
But Hana didn't reply.
Without a word, she leapt from the rooftop, landing gracefully, and activated her wind magic. Her body shot forward, cutting through the air toward the library.
Lucian clicked his tongue.
"Damn it… that woman," he muttered, before following—he had no other choice.
They infiltrated through a side air vent—a narrow, elevated shaft with minimal guarding. Inside, there was no time for words.
Lucian immediately began searching for the shelf that held the curse-breaking book or the soul magic tome he desperately sought.
But just as he reached out, a gust of wind slammed into him from the side.
Brukk!!
Lucian's body was hurled backward, crashing into a bookshelf. His head struck hard, followed by the echoing collapse of wood and paper. The spellbook slipped from his grip, flung across the room.
His vision blurred. He tried to rise, but his limbs refused.
Footsteps approached—guards rushing toward the noise.
As consciousness slipped from him, a figure stepped forward… light steps… a shadow stood beside the fallen book.
Hana.
Lucian gave a weak smile upon recognizing her—
But the smile vanished as pain tore through him from behind.
The second strike had come.
From Hana.
His body crumpled. Darkness closed in.
Moments later, voices rang through the library.
"Here! Find the source of the noise!"
Several guards burst in, one kneeling beside Lucian's motionless form.
"He's still alive!" he shouted.
"Call reinforcements—we'll arrest him now!"
From the distance, heavy footsteps echoed closer…
And in the midst of it all—Hana had vanished.