Headrin and the knights, who were scanning the perimeter, did not seem to have discovered it yet.
“Headr—”
Before she could call out, a massive hand materialized and struck at them.
*Boom!*
The trees shattered with a thunderous roar, and the snow piled upon them exploded into a blizzard, blinding them.
“Blair!”
When Blair regained her senses, the first thing she saw was Headrin, his expression twisted with panic as he checked her face.
Just before the impact, he had sensed the presence, grabbed her, and rolled through the snow. Their horses were gone, likely having bolted in terror.
“Your Grace! Her Grace!”
The knights’ voices sounded muffled and distant through the swirling white haze.
Blair forced herself to calm down, checking the sable she had been clutching. She had instinctively curled her body around it, and the creature was unharmed.
“Can you stand?”
Headrin asked. Blair didn’t answer, pushing herself up, but her legs buckled. Headrin caught her, pulling her firmly against him.
As the snow settled, their vision sharpened. Looming before them was a one-eyed giant—a Cyclops.
Blair froze as her gaze met its singular, massive eye. Detecting them, the beast lunged.
Headrin reacted instantly. Channeling aura to reinforce his body, he scooped Blair up and leaped, his agility defying human limitations.
At that moment, the knights emerged from the haze, unleashing a volley of arrows.
The shafts whistled through the air in quick succession, but they served only as a nuisance to the beast; they dealt no significant damage.
Headrin seized the distraction to reach the unit. The Knights Commander rushed toward them.
“Your Grace! Her Grace! Are you all right?”
“Fortuitously. Kyle, take the first squad and escort Her Grace out of the forest. The second squad will hold off the beast with me.”
“Yes.”
The commander hurried to relay the order. Headrin took off his own cloak and draped it over Blair.
“Keep this on.”
Blair stared at him, paralyzed. There was not a trace of hesitation in his eyes. As someone hardened by the northern wars and the constant threat of magical beasts, perhaps this was his natural rhythm.
But Blair felt no such stability.
*If things proceed exactly as they did in the past, Headrin won’t be in danger, but…*
The monster was visceral, terrifying, and the thought of him getting hurt was a nightmare she couldn’t escape. Even knowing a timeline where he survived, the raw fear of the unknown consumed her.
Blair grabbed his arm as he moved to turn away. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. She could only cling to him.
Headrin looked from her hand to her terror-stricken face, then chuckled.
“Do you think I’m going to die?”
He handed her over to the Knights Commander and strode toward the Cyclops. Blue aura flared to life, coating his blade.
“Her Grace, we must move.”
The commander urged her on. Blair knew that staying would only make her a burden, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Headrin’s retreating back.
Headrin scaled the arm of the lunging Cyclops and launched himself into the air, manipulating his mana for a combo spell. That was when he felt it—a strange, discordant hitch in his energy.
The sword strike intended for the creature’s neck was blocked by its hand. Under normal circumstances, he would have severed both in a single blow.
*The mana…*
The flow was sluggish, significantly thinner than usual. It was still more than any ordinary human possessed, but the miscalculation created a lethal gap in his defense.
“Grawwwr!”
Infuriated by the gash on its hand, the Cyclops swung its arm at him.
Headrin dodged, shaken but composed. He immediately adjusted his strategy, ducking beneath the creature’s thrashing limbs to slash at its legs.
*Next, the arm.*
He aimed for the left this time, but as he sliced through, the wounded right arm snagged him. Tremendous pressure squeezed his ribs, threatening to crush him.
“Headrin…!”
Blair, who had just been hoisted onto a horse, screamed.
At that instant, a red magic circle shimmered between her collarbones. Simultaneously, a flash of memory tore through Headrin’s mind: a heavily pregnant Blair looking at him with eyes that seemed ready to weep.
*What is this…?*
As the thought struck him, the missing mana flooded back into his veins. He didn’t miss the opening.
He channeled his power into a surge that tore the Cyclops’s hand apart. Coating his sword in a blinding blue arc, he manifested a massive magic circle. Swords of light rained down like a celestial downpour.
“Gack!”
Headrin severed the beast’s neck. The Cyclops slumped to the earth, dead.
He wiped hot blood from his face with the back of his hand. Only then did he feel the sharp, biting pain in his abdomen, his brow furrowing as he realized his ribs were likely broken.
*Why couldn’t I channel my mana properly?*
He had spent the last two months on wedding preparations, neglecting his combat training. But while his form might have suffered, the total volume of his mana shouldn’t have dipped. It wasn’t something that just vanished.
“Headrin.”
Blair’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. She was watching him, her eyes wide with worry. The image from his vision—the pregnant woman—overlapped with her current form.
What on earth was that memory?
* * *
The event was halted following the attack. Ivan ordered the hunting grounds to be searched and canceled the evening banquet, casting a pall over the celebratory atmosphere of the New Year.
They could not, however, skip the first service of the year. The rituals proceeded hours behind schedule.
Upon arriving at the temple, Headrin and Blair sought out the annex for his injuries. No priests were present, and the cleric who greeted them looked troubled.
“Oh dear, what should we do? All the high priests are away…”
Only those chosen by the gods could perform holy magic, and they were in constant demand.
“There is an acolyte still in training. I will bring them immediately.”
As the cleric turned to leave, he paused, looking at Headrin. “Your Grace, internal injuries require a delicate touch. It would be best to remove your outer garments.”
The door clicked shut, leaving them in the quiet room.
Headrin began to undress. Blair moved to help, but he hung his clothes on a chair; she would surely be swallowed by the weight of them.
He unbuttoned his shirt and looked at her.
“Can you really see the future?”
Blair watched him, her voice calm but layered with quiet resentment.
“…You said you didn’t believe me.”
“Even if it’s hard to believe at first, if incidents like today repeat themselves, one ends up believing whether they want to or not.”
Headrin finished stripping off his tunic. Facing his solid, half-naked torso, Blair subtly averted her gaze.
Headrin reached out, gently taking her chin to force her to meet his eyes.
“Tell me. What else did you see?”
Blair looked at him. His eyes were cold, but they lacked the biting mockery of the previous night.
But she had nothing to give him. Could she tell him she had been murdered, that she had returned to the past, and that he might be the one responsible?
She decided to brush it off as a nightmare.
That was when the door opened.
“Duke, Duchess. We are coming in.”
The cleric returned, accompanied by a young priest. Blair looked up instinctively and froze.
“Greetings, Duke. And Duchess.”
Miella Elias.
The woman who had been Headrin’s lover in her past life, and the woman who would soon become that again.