Exhale, inhale, exhale again, inhale, repeat.
Rita’s heartbeat gradually slowed, and little by little, she was able to comprehend what she was doing.
Or rather, what was being done to her.
Her face was being held by Cecilia, those golden eyes staring into her own—without the slightest hint of extra emotion, just looking at her, and nothing more.
Yet at such a distance, with this warmth, and these seemingly unremarkable eyes, it felt as if Cecilia might blow away the lingering smoke in Rita’s heart that refused to fade even after escaping the burning field.
Fueled by the inspiration that threatened to burst from her mind and the resentment she felt toward Dorothy, Rita had rushed out of the fire and come straight to Cecilia, pouring out everything she wanted to say in one go.
If not for that surge that drove her to abandon hesitation and just press forward, she might really have frozen in place, at a loss.
At least now, all she needed to do was follow Cecilia’s orders.
Even if it wasn’t the right moment, Rita’s face suddenly flushed.
Seeing Rita showing her usual expression, Cecilia, for once, allowed a faint, gentle arc to curve at the corner of her lips.
Cecilia’s hand slipped gently from Rita’s face, but the lingering warmth was utterly stripped away by her next words, leaving Rita’s back cold as ice.
“All right, Rita, let’s go back and plunge your sword into Dorothy’s throat, shall we?”
Rita was startled, and her shock must have been plainly written on her face.
Taken literally, did Cecilia want Dorothy dead?
Was she making this judgment solely based on what Rita had just said?
Rita opened her mouth, but the words “Does Dorothy really have to die?” stuck in her throat, swallowed down with the movement of her Adam’s apple.
She shouldn’t be asking such questions—she’d already chosen to trust Cecilia at this point; it was clearly inappropriate to defy her orders now.
However, Rita still had the right to know the reason, so she tried a different approach.
“She hasn’t done anything yet. To just kill her like this… is that really all right…”
Cecilia lifted her lashes, her voice as cold as ever, “So you think someone who’s brought such harm to this city shouldn’t die?”
“No, no, that’s not it.” Rita quickly denied it, though even she wasn’t sure what she was really thinking.
Rita closed her eyes for a moment, quickly piecing together the fragments in her heart into sentences.
“We don’t have solid evidence, and Dorothy is a Grand Magus—you can’t just kill her as you please. Besides… anyway… I just feel it’s not right to kill her…”
Rita stammered, her gaze darting around, not daring to meet Cecilia’s eyes, afraid she’d see displeasure there.
But their eyes met inadvertently, and what Rita saw was not the anger or indifference she’d feared, but a naked, inexplicable approval.
The instant their gazes crossed, Cecilia finally spoke, slowly, “You’ve finally sobered up?”
“Wha…what?” Rita was completely lost.
“As a knight, you can’t lose your head over a single matter. The more serious things get, the calmer you must remain. This is the second time—get used to it quickly.”
“Uh…I still don’t get it,” Rita scratched her head.
“You just now looked as if you’d do anything I said—that’s not good. But you still managed to realize on your own, at the last moment, how absurd my order was. That’s very good.”
Cecilia always answered Rita’s questions like this.
“That’s right, killing Dorothy isn’t easy, nor should we do it. She still holds many secrets worth digging out—keeping her alive is far more valuable than killing her outright. But, Rita, you’ve also made a mistake.”
“Me?” Rita was confused.
“If Dorothy’s target was only me, she’s had countless chances to make a move. Just to name the most recent—the beetle rampage. If she’d truly wanted my life, she could’ve had a beetle crawl into my tent the moment the chaos began.”
“But, she didn’t. So, someone targeting me is just a smokescreen—there’s another motive behind all this, otherwise making such a commotion for nothing would be impossible.”
Cecilia had been considering the possibility that she wasn’t the true target even before setting out. The fact that she’d survived unharmed after that night’s chaos had only strengthened her conviction—there was another plan at work behind all this.
As for what, why, and how? Those might be answers Cecilia didn’t need to consider herself, but they would surely bring disaster to Solus City.
“So, was it actually a mistake for me to come directly to you, Lady Cecilia…?” Rita asked.
“No, letting me know all this immediately is not a mistake. It’s just, you’ve already all but confronted Dorothy directly, so she won’t sit and wait to die. Of course, neither will we. Let’s move—let’s restrain Dorothy as much as possible.”
“Shouldn’t we tell the Lord of the city about this?”
“Until Dorothy actually does something, or until there’s clear evidence pointing to her as the culprit, Angus won’t help anyone. Even if I’ve helped him before, he still has no reason to help me now. Acting on impulse would only doom Solus City’s future.”
Rita pouted.
Cecilia’s words were clear to her: Dorothy might be about to do something to harm Solus City, but before she actually did it, Angus wouldn’t act. And if he didn’t act, Dorothy couldn’t be stopped.
And any evidence that could point to Dorothy had already been reduced to ashes in the fire.
A vicious cycle—what a headache.
“But I’m still more than happy to give Angus a reminder,” Cecilia added. “Let’s go, time to head back.”
At that moment, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble violently.
Rita had experienced this feeling of the earth shaking many times—Saint Night Scarabs, Saint Night Commander, even the Saint Night Lord.
But this time, though similar, was somehow different.
Compared to before, it was far more intense.
And, this was inside the city. There was no way the Saint Scarabs could have broken through all the lines of defense to get here!
Inside the city.
A vendor was dozing in his chair, when suddenly he saw the apples on his stall clattering and rolling to the ground, followed by a deep, rumbling vibration beneath his feet.
The vendor, grumbling and cursing, gathered his apples back into the basket, “What’s going on? Why’s there an earthquake all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know! Grab your things!” The melon seller nearby was in even worse shape, clutching three huge melons in his arms and stooping to chase a fourth one rolling across the road.
Suddenly, the road cracked down the middle, separating the vendor from his runaway melon.
Violent tremors shook the vendor’s feet, and in an ear-splitting roar, the fractured ground lifted both the vendor and the earth beneath him into the air.
“You! You! You!” The apple seller gaped, stammering as he stared at the inexplicably rising ground, then turned and ran.
But he wasn’t fast enough. After just two steps, the ground split beneath him, and, like a fallen apple, he tumbled into the huge crevice.
“Run! The ground is splitting! Run!”
“Don’t push me! Don’t push—ahh!”
“Help! Somebody help!”
Amid the deafening roar of shattering earth, the chaotic cries of the people were drowned and twisted together, growing fewer and more wretched, as both the city and its people were torn apart in a chorus of anguished wails.
Those farther away could feel the tremors underfoot, though they weren’t caught in the shattered ground.
At the same time, they could see what was happening in that area.
A massive gray object burst out from the cracked earth with overwhelming force, tearing apart everything in its path—the Market stalls where the vendors stood, the stone-brick houses, the Clock Tower that held generations of memories—everything, along with the ground itself.
Wood and bricks fell from the sky like a storm, along with the faded great bell; the gray behemoth simply crushed all tangible things, scattering debris all around.
In the gray dust stained with who-knows-what red, people could see even more clearly.
Rising from beneath Solus City was a rectangular frame—no one could tell what it was, but everyone could feel the crushing force emanating from it.
When the last wisp of dust cleared, they finally saw its true form.
It was a gate, without a door—just a simple frame, but the intricate patterns on it left no doubt: it was The Gate.
So tall, people had to crane their necks just to catch a glimpse of its outline in the gray sky, so wide it could fit two mountain giants—though most people had never seen a mountain giant, it was simply the biggest thing they could imagine.
Beneath The Gate was no longer a flat square, but a sloping mound of rubble, splintered wood, and blood, all heaped together in tribute.
“DX…”
A little boy covered his mouth, wide eyes reflecting a hand reaching out from beneath the debris.
Panic exploded like a plague—there were cries for help, shrieks, and sobs, but soon, all eyes were drawn inexorably to the massive stone gate.
“Hea—heavens!”
“They survived?” “That… what is that?!”
At last, beneath the shadow of the standing stone gate, all sound began to fade away.
People only felt their chests crushed by the weight of events; though nothing else seemed wrong, they simply couldn’t breathe.
“R-report…”
A soldier rushed in, but before he could speak, Angus cut him off brusquely.
“I’m not blind!”
On the other side, Cecilia led Rita quickly back to their room.
“What’s going on?” This time, it was Rita who spoke, not Cecilia.
“Lady Dorothy, what’s happening?”
“How should I know?” Dorothy replied, her eyes curving, “I’ve been with Lord Angus this whole time.”