After resting for a night, Leif set out together with Natiaveda to carry out the mission the queen had given them.
She had promised the queen she would fight side by side with the lady-in-waiting—the shepherd girl still remembered the queen saying something like, “Come back together. Neither of you is allowed to get hurt.”
But deep down, Leif felt the lady-in-waiting’s presence was absolutely unnecessary.
The lady-in-waiting wore no armor, carried no weapons, just a white robe that would stain at the slightest touch of dirt. On top of that, she insisted on riding in a cushioned carriage, pointing out flowers and plants along the way and far too eagerly introducing Leif to the various subspecies of white hyacinths native to the Aeseya Kingdom.
She seemed to have completely forgotten that this was not a spring outing, but a life‑threatening expedition.
“It’s like this, I need to assure Her Majesty that you, Miss Knight, won’t just bring back any random twig to fob her off.”
The lady-in-waiting clutched at her heart, which had been pounding wildly from the jolting ride. Her face was pale, as if she might faint at any moment, and she looked at Leif, who was forcing a stiff smile.
“So I absolutely must accompany you there, Miss Knight.”
Inwardly, Leif rolled her eyes. When she’d first heard the lady-in-waiting say she’d come to the Aeseya Kingdom with the same goal as Leif, she’d assumed she was another tough girl hungry for wealth and a knight’s ribbon. She hadn’t expected someone this frail, timid, and fond of comfort… so much for that.
At least Leif was grateful the lady-in-waiting hadn’t claimed she was here to “help.” Having someone watching from the side under orders from their mistress was better than having someone blundering around on the battlefield getting in her way. In her past life she’d seen more than enough teammates who could only be described as little piglets; she had no desire to attach that metaphor to the lady-in-waiting’s excessively beautiful face.
For some reason the horse was suddenly spooked, rearing up with a violent snort. The royal coachman shouted “Whoa!” several times, yanked hard on the reins, and cracked his whip repeatedly before finally getting the horse back under control.
The white‑robed lady-in-waiting lurched sideways with the jolt of the carriage and fell against Leif. Leif had been focused on scanning the surroundings; when something soft suddenly collapsed into her arms, she almost reflexively flung the woman out of the carriage.
The brown‑haired, black‑eyed shepherd girl really had been about to do exactly that, but the lady-in-waiting grabbed her arm at once, bit her lip, and looked up at her with amber eyes veiled in a faint mist.
“Oh… Miss Knight…”
For a split second, Leif felt like Natiaveda’s gaze was that of a wronged lover accusing a heartless scoundrel who’d abandoned her.
How odd. When the lady-in-waiting had first appeared, she’d been aloof and untouchable, and Leif had even suspected she was some hidden master. She had never expected… this.
Right now, the only thing Leif wanted was for the lady-in-waiting to stop clinging to her. The weather was already starting to warm up.
“When we get there, I need you to hide properly in the bushes. Don’t try to help, and don’t you dare steal my…”
Leif swallowed the word “kill” and finished instead, meeting Natiaveda’s slightly wounded gaze.
“I’m afraid I might accidentally hurt you.”
Only then did Natiaveda curve her lips in satisfaction, though she still didn’t let go of Leif’s arm.
“It’s like this, Miss Knight. We’re already very close to Muer Forest, and I also have to assure Her Majesty you won’t run off halfway.”
The coachman dropped them off about half a mile from Muer Forest.
Though the sky was clear and it hadn’t rained for days, Muer Forest was shrouded in a layer of mist, a mass of dingy gray‑white from a distance. The fog was grimy, stretching upward to merge with the sky so you couldn’t see where it ended. Just looking at it made one feel suffocated and uneasy.
Leif swore up and down she’d be back soon, but the coachman, who valued his life, quickly left the forest with its man‑eating reputation behind. He said he was going into a nearby town for a drink to calm his nerves and agreed to return to this spot in three‑quarters of an hour to wait for them.
“They say once there was a knight who came to Muer Forest and died here. Then another knight came to Muer Forest, and died here.”
Natiaveda spoke as they walked.
Leif drew her blade from its sheath and gripped it in both hands. The closer they came to the forest, the thicker the fog grew, until she had to squint to make out the path. Listening to the lady-in-waiting’s story—one sentence, one dead knight—she finally couldn’t help herself.
“You really have no talent for storytelling. No details at all. It’s not scary in the slightest. And then? What happened after that?”
“After that, many knights came to Muer Forest,” Natiaveda said calmly, “and died here.”
“…Why is it always knights who die?”
Leif frowned.
At that moment, she suddenly heard a sound that theoretically had no business appearing here.
It was an April morning, not night, but in a place like Muer Forest—where people supposedly died all the time—it most definitely shouldn’t be this lively.
“Because…”
Natiaveda steadied Leif by the shoulder and looked in the same direction as Leif.
“That crowd who call themselves knights all seem to have an oddly high opinion of themselves and a strange fondness for courting death. Of course, our adorable Miss Knight here is naturally excluded.”
They were already very close to the edge of Muer Forest, and there, to their surprise, another group of people had already gathered.
Knights sat astride tall warhorses, iron‑black cloaks draped over their shoulders. Their chainmail glinted with a dull, leaden sheen, and their leather boots were polished bright. From the color of their cloaks, Leif could tell these knights were of low rank, but the ribbons on their chests clearly marked them as apprentice knights recognized by the clergy.
These were all selected by priests from their respective parishes. Their backgrounds varied—some were sons of nobles, others born to commoners. They studied at a nearby knight academy. Unlike Leif, who could not become an apprentice knight through ordinary channels, these boys already had their knight’s ribbons before enrollment. After a short period of advanced training at the academy and the completion of suitably difficult missions, they would be promoted to full knights.
When they’d enrolled, the instructor priests had given them stirring speeches—about how the safety of the entire continent rested upon their shoulders—and naturally, such words had made those young hearts swell with pride.
These apprentice knights, gathered from all corners of the land, had soon heard, upon arriving in the Aeseya Kingdom, the tale of man‑eating Muer Forest and the miraculous Prophet Branch. And so, like so many reckless youths of generations past, they agreed to storm Muer Forest together.
The Prophet Tree of Muer Forest, of course, was not listed on their assignment sheet. But they fantasized that if they became heroes who had braved Muer Forest and lived to tell the tale, they’d be showered with flower wreaths from the ladies.
They hadn’t expected that two pretty girls would show up even before their adventure began.
A few whistles rose from among these apprentice knights, who’d only just earned their ribbons and hadn’t yet recited the knight’s creed more than a handful of times.
One knight with a hooked nose and gray eyes laughed.
“Well, well, look who’s here. Two lovely young ladies. Have you come to cheer for us? This place is dangerous, you know. If you get scared and start crying, we big brothers will have to pull you into our arms and give your pale little faces a big kiss.”
The apprentice knight beside him said, “Yaron, but the creed says…”
Yaron clicked his tongue and glared at him with muddy gray eyes.
“That kind of respect is for noble ladies. It’s not like just any woman who wanders over is worth us bowing and scraping.”
The shorter of the two girls said nothing. She walked a few steps closer, just enough for them to see the chopper she held in her hand. Then she turned the blade slightly.
Sunlight filtered through the fog and flashed along the edge, sending a bright streak of steel right into the eyes of the rude knight. He had to lift a hand to shield them.
“I’m here to take the Prophet Branch.”
The shepherd girl raised the chopper and lifted her chin.
“If I end up accidentally hurting you later, I will definitely not be kissing your little face while you’re bawling. So you’d better… stay out of my way.”
The apprentice knights stared, stunned for a moment, then burst into loud laughter.
They turned to the other young woman, the one in white who wasn’t holding a chopper and seemed more normal.
“Miss, what’s wrong with your companion? Lunatics should be locked up at home, not let out here to embarrass themselves. And if I’m not mistaken, that’s a real sword in her hand. What if she has a fit and stabs herself?”
“I say you’re not too normal either,” Yaron added, his gaze roaming shamelessly over Natiaveda’s curves. “Proper girls shouldn’t be coming to places like this.”
The lady-in-waiting acted as if she hadn’t heard a word. Her gaze swept the ground in search of somewhere, anywhere, with tall enough grass for her to hide in, but she couldn’t find so much as a single clump that would cover her. She knit her fine brows, looking a little troubled.
Leif, however, heard every word perfectly clearly. She tightened her grip on the blade, intending to knock Yaron out with a blow from the hilt first and talk later.
But then she caught the sound of chaotic footsteps coming from within the forest—the sound was growing closer.
Natiaveda gave up her search for a hiding place. Her ears twitched; she turned toward the forest and said softly,
“It seems these people are even more eager to die than I thought.”
Yaron and the other apprentice knights drew their swords, excitement burning in their eyes.
The thunder of a monster’s charge and its furious roars shook the ground. Trees fell in its wake, either ripped out by the roots or sheared off at the waist.
When Leif finally saw the moss‑green beast, she understood why all the Prophet Trees in the world had withered, leaving only one last tree in Muer Forest.
If the monster stood still, it looked like a small hill. Its body was covered in rocks, soil, and plants. A towering tree grew from the top of its head, and on that tree was a single golden branch—the very last Prophet Branch grew out of the monster’s skull.
In front of the monster, a burly apprentice knight was running for his life, staggering as he gasped for breath.
“Hel—help, help… huff… save me…”
Outside the treeline, the other knights stood perfectly at ease behind their drawn swords, forming the most basic of knight formations as they waited for their living decoy to lure the monster out of the forest. They actually believed that with those practice blades in their hands and a few pages worth of paper battle theory, they could bring the monster down.
Leif steadied her breathing, forcing herself to calm down as she searched for an opening to join the fray.
But then the knight serving as the blood‑soaked decoy suddenly shouted toward her, his face a mask of gore.
“Leif—it’s you! What are you… doing here… Get out… of here…”
Because of that one shout, the enraged monster abruptly shifted direction. With a furious roar, it charged straight at the shepherd girl, who had not yet had time to prepare.
