Chapter 92

Using a shortcut, Enria’s group reached a village where the plague was less advanced, yet the sight before them was several times more horrific than in Sdelam, where every resident had already died. Their expressions hardened instantly.

‘Zombies…’

Watching people writhe in agony at the outskirts—bodies rotting alive as they struggled—Enria naturally recalled the zombies from her original world.

Zombies weren’t real creatures even there, but witnessing flesh whittling off like blood-soaked porridge while the person was still alive… it didn’t feel real.

Of course, a world of magic and monsters wasn’t exactly realistic to begin with.

“Gruesome,” Roseanne murmured, swallowing hard as he surveyed the village.

The moment Enria gave one curt nod, she strode toward those twisting in pain. She took the hand of the person closest to the entrance and began purifying them.

Seeing her, the villagers flocked toward her, begging to be saved. They seemed to believe the girl wielding holy power was their one and only salvation, reaching out with rotting hands just to touch her.

In seconds, people trampled each other, the area around Enria devolving into chaos.

Roseanne and Rahar rushed to block the mob, and Belona threw up a barrier of light around them, but the desperate strength of people clinging to life was overwhelming.

When one villager managed to slip a hand through the light barrier and yank Enria’s clothes hard enough to make her nearly fall, Tearen grabbed her arm and steadied her. He immediately cast an illusion over the crowd, making them disappear from the villagers’ sight.

“Stay still for a moment,” Tearen said, releasing Enria’s arm.

With the group invisible, the villagers—unable to find them—stumbled about in confusion before succumbing once more to their pain, collapsing and writhing.

Seeing their torment up close made everyone, including Enria, twist their faces in distress.

“Can you maintain the illusion like this?” Enria asked.

“It’s possible,” Tearen replied, “but the moment someone notices something off, the illusion will break.”

That made a faint crease of worry appear on Enria’s face. They’d come here to cleanse the plague. Stopping wasn’t an option.

Reading her thoughts, Roseanne asked Belona, “Can you cage them all?”

If they could trap all the infected in one place and pull them out one by one for purification, it would be far more manageable. Belona nodded. She checked with Tearen whether she could cast magic while they remained hidden; he confirmed she could.

Belona lifted her hand, encasing the mass of suffering villagers in a massive, brilliant prison of light.

Even without understanding why they’d been trapped, the captives’ faces twisted further in agony—but some seemed slightly relieved to be within a power close to holy energy.

That relief was quickly smothered by pain again, but it existed.

As soon as the barrier settled, Tearen dropped the illusion, and Enria reached toward the nearest villager to resume purification.

Again, the people fought to stand behind the one being purified, desperate to secure the next spot. The pushing and trampling resumed.

Belona scowled and began forming smaller prisons behind each person receiving purification, isolating them one by one. Soon, each villager was individually confined, and the fighting died out.

Enria sent Belona a grateful glance and continued purifying as quickly as she could.

Then Rahar’s portable communicator suddenly rang loudly from his coat. He snatched it out.

“Who is it?”

— Caldeon.

“Enria’s purifying. What’s wrong?”

— Show me.

Caldeon ignored the question, demanding that Rahar turn the communicator toward Enria. Rahar frowned but angled it toward her.

— Enria.

“Caldeon?”

Her eyes widened when she heard his voice; Caldeon and Hayden waved at her through the screen.

“Where are you? You arrived already?”

— We passed the border region. No damage here. We’re heading to the infected villages.

He added that the southern-northern border hadn’t been hit and that he and Hayden would join the purification efforts. Enria nodded, asking him to help.

— You tired?

Caldeon seemed in no rush to end the call, peppering her with question after question. Enria answered dutifully as she worked.

Rahar, holding the communicator, and Tearen, keeping watch, both frowned at the nonstop barrage.

“Hey, Caldeon—”

“Caldeon, stop. She can’t focus.”

Tearen finally spoke up, but Roseanne cut in first.

— Fine. No more questions.

“Then hang up?” Rahar asked.

— I said I won’t ask questions, not that I’ll hang up. Keep it on her.

“Seriously…?”

— Hayden wants to see his mother.

“You mean you want to,” Rahar muttered.

— Well, I want to see her too.

Caldeon made a shameless chin-jerk, silently ordering Rahar to fix the camera angle. Rahar’s frown deepened.

“Unbelievable…”

“Just hang up.”

“Yeah, brother, end it.”

Tearen and Roseanne both urged him, annoyed.

Rahar shot them a look—Who’s dealing with the aftermath if he hangs up?—while Caldeon impatiently scolded him for not giving him a clear view.

Watching the bickering quietly, Belona felt her throat tighten. Caldeon’s clinginess toward Enria reminded her too much of Groen—how fiercely he’d cherished her. Her eyes stung. Waking up each morning still felt like he should be there. It all felt like an illusion—this world she moved through, the fact that she could no longer see him, touch him. It was all a relentless nightmare.

A tear slipped out before she realized it. Startled, she quickly turned away.

No one could see her cry.

Using the excuse of reinforcing defenses, Belona walked toward the village entrance. Rahar turned his head mid-complaint at Caldeon, spotted her walking alone, and froze. He thrust the communicator into Tearen’s hands and hurried after her.

Belona glanced back at the sound of footsteps.

“Why are you moving alone? It’s dan—wait… did you… cry?”

The words came out reflexively the moment their eyes met, and her brows knit instantly.

“Something got in my eye. And dangerous? Really? I’m a high mage of the Tower,” she said, throwing in a forced joke to hide her tears.

Rahar fell into step beside her.

“Everyone knows that. But this situation isn’t normal. No harm in being careful.”

“There won’t be a dark mage popping out. I’ll be fine.”

“Dark mages aren’t the only danger. And your body still isn’t—”

Her brows pinched. Rahar’s mouth snapped shut.

“So you’re saying I’m not normal?”

Her soul being half-gone did make her not normal, but saying that outright would only make her bristle. Rahar chose his words carefully.

“I mean… since half your soul was taken—”

His cautious phrasing was immediately cut down by her cold reply.

“My abilities work fine. Don’t worry about it.”

She turned away and started erecting a light barrier at the entrance.

Rahar watched her, concern twisting his expression, and muttered almost scolding: “You’re overworking yourself just to avoid thinking about anything. If you keep using that much power without pacing yourself, you will collapse.”

“…”

“And if you pass out, you won’t even know it happened. I’m not here to babysit you.”

She ignored him entirely, which only made his irritation spike.

Belona turned with an equally annoyed frown.

“If I collapse, leave me. I have no intention of owing you anything.”

Clearly, the word “you” bothered her. She threw the word back at him with equal disdain. Rahar’s own brows tightened.

Why was she always like this with him?

He didn’t realize he talked to her more than anyone else—so he mistook her guardedness for hostility.

Feeling both unfairly treated and irritated, he snapped back:

“Fine. Do whatever you want.”

He crossed his arms, lifting his chin in clear displeasure.