By the time Nicholas led Alber to the annex, five kings were already waiting. They greeted her with cautious respect, instinctively humbled by the sheer weight of her years.
Alber lowered herself onto the remnants of the shattered barrier spell, placing both hands on the ground and closing her eyes. A faint glow flickered to life beneath her fingertips.
The kings watched in silent awe. But had they possessed a deeper understanding of magic, their awe would have turned to shock—what she was attempting should have been impossible. Restoring a forcibly broken spell was akin to reattaching a severed limb.
Moments later, Alber withdrew her hands, and the glow faded.
“There is still a great deal of lingering energy within this spell,” she murmured, her expression clouded with bitterness. It was to be expected—this spell had consumed human lives as its medium. The power of their sacrificed souls remained bound to it, unable to dissipate.
“I intend to repurpose this residual energy,” she continued. “Originally, this spell created a barrier that blocked everything within this world. I will reverse it—to block everything that does not exist in this world.”
A collective gasp escaped the kings.
Nicholas, his voice edged with disbelief, asked, “Then… you mean to create a barrier that prevents the Lark from entering the sanctuary?”
“Yes.”
A stunned silence followed. Even without deep magical knowledge, the kings understood that altering an existing spell to such a degree was nothing short of extraordinary.
They had already heard from Eugene about Maha and the knowledge Alber had uncovered. The monster of the sanctuary had spent years meticulously preparing this spell, placing absolute trust in its impenetrable protection. That alone was proof of its overwhelming power.
“Then the greatest problem is essentially solved,” Richard said, glancing at the other kings.
The monster had been vanquished—but so had its domain. Once the dry season ended, the sanctuary would be left completely defenseless. When the active season arrived, the kings would have no choice but to return to their respective kingdoms to protect their own lands. The sanctuary could not take precedence over their people.
Pered nodded. “If the sanctuary is secure, we can withdraw our armies.”
“No,” Alber said firmly.
The weight in her voice silenced the room.
“This spell is not a permanent solution. A significant portion of the residual energy will be consumed in altering the spell. What remains will not be enough to sustain it for long.”
Kasser’s expression darkened. “Then how long will it last once activated?”
Alber hesitated for a moment, calculating. “At most, three months.”
A murmur of concern spread among the kings. Three months—just long enough to endure the upcoming active season.
Akil, his tone cautious, asked, “Is there a way to replenish the energy and maintain the spell?”
Alber’s answer was chilling. “A medium with immense life force is required. If one were to seek it, it could be easily found.” Her gaze swept across the room. “After all, human lives can serve as that medium.”
Akil’s frown deepened, and he fell into uneasy silence.
Alber exhaled slowly, her voice steady. “I am a sinner. I cannot even begin to measure the depth of my transgressions. However, there is one line I have never crossed—I have never used human lives as a medium for magic.”
Her eyes hardened with resolve. “That is why, once I complete this new spell, I will ensure that it erases all traces of itself once its effect expires. I will leave no means for it to be renewed. I refuse to create a future where innocent lives are sacrificed to sustain this spell.”
A heavy silence followed.
Her voice, unwavering, carried a finality that none dared challenge. “Even if this spell could save many, that would never justify it. The sacrifice of a few for the benefit of the many is a path we must never take.”
“You are absolutely right, Elder,” Richard said, nodding in agreement. “Securing even a single active season is a significant victory. Now, let’s discuss how to prepare for what comes next.”
Alber informed them that she would spend the entire night modifying the spell, aiming to complete it before dawn. In response, the kings agreed to hold their own discussions throughout the night.
“Would you prefer a quieter environment?” Nicholas offered. “If it would help you concentrate, we can relocate.”
Alber shook her head with a gentle smile. “No, having voices nearby puts me at ease.”
A table was set up just a few steps away from the spell circle, positioned so that the kings could continue their discussions without disturbing her. Since Alber was sensitive to bright light, only a few candles flickered on the table, casting long shadows across the room.
As the night deepened, Alber focused on altering the spell while the kings deliberated over their next course of action. Midnight approached.
Kasser, however, found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. The closer the time came for Eugene’s arrival, the more restless he became. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out how she planned to reach the sanctuary.
“What do you think, Fourth King?”
Startled, Kasser looked up to find all the kings watching him expectantly.
“Ah…” He hesitated, struggling for an answer.
Sensing his distraction, Richard smoothly intervened. “Let’s take a short break and have some tea.”
During the break, Kasser approached Alber. He lingered at the edge of her workspace, reluctant to interrupt, but Alber soon lifted her head, sensing his presence.
“Do you have a question, Fourth King?”
“I apologize for disturbing you,” Kasser said. “I wanted to ask you something about magic.”
Alber smiled, setting aside her work. “It’s no trouble. What would you like to know?”
Perhaps because he was Eugene’s husband, she felt a strange fondness toward him—almost like looking at a grandson-in-law.
“It’s about teleportation spells,” Kasser said. “Can a teleportation spell be reused after its magic circle has disappeared?”
Alber shook her head. “A vanished circle cannot be used again. Especially with teleportation spells—once activated, they leave no trace behind to prevent tracking.”
“Then, is there any teleportation spell that allows travel without pre-established magic circles at both the departure and arrival points?”
Alber fell into thoughtful silence before responding.
“Teleportation spells always require magic circles at both ends. No known spell has ever broken that rule. Have you seen something unusual?”
Kasser hesitated, debating whether to tell her about Eugene’s arrival.
Then, suddenly—he froze.
A powerful surge of lark energy rippled through the air, sending an eerie stillness across the room.
It wasn’t just him. Every king present reacted instantly, their expressions sharpening in alarm.
Riner’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “This energy—it’s as strong as that monster’s! Who the hell is this?!”
Without waiting for an answer, he erupted into red flames, the fire licking hungrily at the ground as he crouched. Then, with a single powerful leap, he vaulted over the annex wall, his fiery form streaking toward the source of the disturbance.
The other kings wasted no time, swiftly following in his wake, all racing toward the western gate of the fortress.
Only Richard remained behind, standing guard beside Alber and the spell circle, his stance tense as he monitored the unfolding situation.
