Meanwhile, at the main entrance of the cave, the liberation of women, children, and elderly captives of the cult had begun. Six hundred eighteen people were rescued. The air filled with cries and lamentations: some wept with joy for their freedom, others for the loss of those who had been turned into undead.
Shortly after, Albert, Leonidas, and Jaiden approached Charles, seeking news about their lord.
"Where is my lord?" Albert asked with concern.
"He's with the fallen knights," Charles replied in a somber voice.
Leonidas frowned.
"Did the death of his men affect him?"
Charles did not answer; he simply pointed toward where his lord was.
The three approached and saw him among the bodies of the fallen. Lusian remained seated, his face hardened by pain and determination. His distant gaze reflected the weight of the decision he had made.
As the torchlight illuminated the faces of the freed villagers, a harsh feeling pierced his chest: none of them would have given their lives for him. His knights, on the other hand, would have done so without hesitation. And yet… he had saved them. A bitter question settled in his mind: do all lives hold the same value?
Albert approached cautiously.
"Are you alright, my lord?"
Lusian exhaled slowly.
"I don't know. Sometimes I think I made the wrong decision."
Albert looked at him seriously.
"Whether it was a good or bad decision depends on who you ask. Sacrificing twenty-nine lives under your command to free those people may be morally right, but politically, it's a mistake that could weigh on you. As a noble, you'll be judged by the result, not the intention."
Lusian understood the lesson. If this were a game, his men would revive… but it wasn't. He had to bear their loss.
"Are you speaking as my teacher or as a friend?" he asked bitterly.
Albert gave a faint smile.
"As your teacher, I want you to learn to accept the consequences of your decisions and not fear choosing what's right, even if it hurts. But as your friend… you can feel proud. You saved many lives and prevented a greater tragedy."
He gave him a pat on the shoulder before walking away. Lusian remained silent, lost in thought and guilt.
A short distance away, Emily was healing the villagers with her light magic. Every cry and every tear she heard deepened her sense of guilt. When she finished, she approached hesitantly.
"May I sit with you?" she asked softly.
"Of course," Lusian replied without taking his eyes off the horizon.
With a trembling voice, Emily confessed her sorrow over the deaths. Lusian shook his head.
"Don't blame yourself. It was my decision. You did what you had to… and you did it well. You figured out the spell on your own, and that honors you."
Emily looked at him with gratitude, then embraced him gently. Lusian, somewhat uncomfortable at first, returned the gesture, realizing he needed it more than he thought.
"Thank you," he murmured.
She pulled away, blushing under the curious gazes of the knights.
At that moment, Jaiden discreetly approached Lusian. The young duke listened attentively as he reported Keitaro's affinity for spatial magic. The revelation immediately caught his attention; it was not a common power, and only one family in the Empire was famous for mastering it: the Macallisters.
Lusian narrowed his eyes, thoughtful.
"Spatial magic…" he murmured to himself. "Interesting."
Without wasting time, he ordered Keitaro to be brought in.
The young adventurer felt a chill run down his spine when he heard his name. He knew his ability was temporarily sealed, and that if Lusian chose to hand him over to the Empire, he would have no way to escape. With every step toward the duke's tent, his breathing grew heavier. In the worst case, he was ready to kneel and beg for his wife's life.
When he finally entered, Lusian was waiting, seated, with a calm expression but a gaze that seemed to see straight through him.
"Macallister, right?" Lusian asked calmly, without looking away.
Keitaro tensed instantly.
"No, my lord… I don't know what you're talking about," he replied quickly.
Lusian gave a faint smile, though his eyes remained sharp.
"Some time ago, I heard an interesting story," he began. "They said that the heir of a prestigious imperial family, engaged to a princess, fell in love with a lower-ranking noblewoman who lived near his lands. Using his teleportation magic, he fled with her one night and disappeared from the Empire." He paused, watching the young man's reaction. "Does that story sound familiar?"
Keitaro swallowed.
"Are you going to hand me over… and claim the reward?" he asked in a faint voice.
"No," Lusian replied, gently shaking his head. "My family has enough wealth to rival the great houses of the Empire. I have no need for your reward."
He leaned slightly forward and added in a more serious tone:
"However, you owe me a favor. And when the time comes, you will have to repay that debt."
Keitaro looked at him, unsure whether to feel relieved or even more afraid.
Lusian continued, this time with an almost paternal tone:
"Let me give you some advice, Keitaro. Stop risking your wife's life. In this kingdom, there is a family that fled the Empire years ago… and they also bear the name Macallister."
Keitaro nodded slowly.
"Yes, I know. They are a secondary branch of my family. I escaped before they did. But…" he sighed, "my former house has sent multiple requests to the king to have them handed over. If I approach them, I'll only put everyone in danger."
Lusian thought for a moment, then spoke calmly but firmly:
"In that case, I'll find another way. When we return, I'll introduce you to someone I trust. Andrew may be an arrogant idiot, but he knows how to recognize talent when he sees it."
Keitaro looked at him in surprise.
"You would really do that for me?"
"Consider it part of the debt you owe me," Lusian replied with a faint smile. "But don't forget, Keitaro: in this world, magic isn't everything. Loyalty and prudence are worth far more."
Keitaro felt those words weigh heavier than any threat. He had broken his silence to save lives… and now his future depended on a duke whose judgment was as unpredictable as fate itself.