For a moment, he witnessed terror flicker in her eyes, and he dampened the flame as he cursed himself for displaying his power to a girl who had been traumatized.

“Could you do that again?”

Warchief looked up in surprise at Lidea whose fear had vanished as fast as it had come. He scrutinized her for any lingering signs of fright but finding none, he raised his palm and reignited the flame. This time her eyes only reflected fascination.

He allowed her to stare at it to her heart's content but stopped her when she reached out for it, earning himself an annoyed look.

“I wasn’t going to touch it, I just wanted to see if the warmth was the same as with a normal flame.”

Warchief felt the corners of his mouth turn up into a grin. Her childlike fascination intrigued him, and he pondered what it must be like to live a life unaware of magic. He wished he could have had such a life.

“You have a voice, just ask. I don’t like the idea of you burning yourself on my fire.”

Lidea seemed hardly bothered by his comment as she continued to gaze at the flame. He half-expected her to attempt touching it again, but she paused her hand before doing so.

“Can you control its temperature? Or its shape? How does it know not to burn you? Are you invincible to all fire?”

As her sense of wonder subsided, the floodgates on her mouth opened and a rapid succession of questions tumbled out. He raised a hand to halt her, granting himself a moment to respond before she continued.

" I can control the temperature and shape, but admittingly I am not very skilled at it. No, I don’t burn myself, but not because I am invincible. Fire can still harm me if I let my guard down, but usually, my body instinctively bends it before I even realize it's there. I suppose in the same way that you don’t actively think to breathe, I don’t think about bending fire when it comes near me. It is an instinct.”

Her eyes remained fixed on the flame, which he brightened and dimmed to illustrate his point. He hadn't lied when he admitted his limited abilities, but manipulating a small flame was a task even a child could accomplish.

"I think I understand. So, does everyone here have magic like that? I didn't see Crystal use any when she was treating me."

Warchief was still taken aback by how little the people of Lynoës seemed to know about the world beyond their borders. Even in other southern countries, most individuals possessed a basic understanding of how magic operated. However, upon his arrival in this remote land, he quickly realized that this was not the case here. Even the magic-holders themselves barely knew anything.

How had Lynoës, once a thriving world power, become a country where its citizens barely knew how to read and write? All within a span of roughly fifty years, less than a single human lifetime.

"Yes, everyone here possesses magic, except for Crystal. At least not in the traditional sense.

Magic, as you envision it, rarely manifests in races other than humans and is often inherited. Since her human father lacked magic, she doesn't possess it either. However, her mother was a demoness, one of the magical races, so she is still more attuned to magic than regular humans would be."

He stopped himself before divulging too much. Even though he didn't suspect any ill intentions from Lidea, he preferred not to spread information within the camp that could endanger Crystal. Or more likely, put his men at risk. Frankly, he believed the demoness wouldn't hesitate to take them on if they attempted anything.

Lidea appeared oblivious to his sudden pause, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. As her interest waned, he took the opportunity to diminish his flame. Her enthusiasm had vanished abruptly, leaving her looking deflated. He couldn't pinpoint why her mood had shifted so rapidly.

“Is something troubling you?”

He could see her mulling over her answer. As if she struggled to articulate her exact emotions. Eventually, the furrow on her brow softened, replaced by a sad smile before she replied.

"It may sound silly, but I never realized how ignorant I am. As a noble, I always considered myself better educated than most. Now it feels as if I was taught complete lies and, at best, half-truths. How could my tutor, my father, or even my mother allow this to happen? Didn't they know any better? Or did they willingly let me exist in a false reality? By the skies, how can I even determine if you and Crystal are telling the truth!?"

Her voice grew agitated, the words becoming increasingly shrill. He attempted to empathize with her situation, imagining the overwhelming lack of control she must be experiencing. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but smile before cutting her off.

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“Well, nothing to do about that now. Fortunately, time continues to move forward, and we have food and drinks. I'm certain you'll figure something out.”

Lidea fell into a deadly silence, staring at him dumbfounded. Her reaction caused him to burst into laughter, earning him a glare from the woman before him.

"How can you be so carefree!?"

"Don't bother asking. Over the years, I've come to accept that he is mad.”

Both of them looked up in surprise as Crystal took a seat across from them, placing a basket in the center. In her customary manner, she had managed to approach without making a single sound—a habit formed through her years in service to the God of Night.

"I thought I told you to start wearing bells. One of these days, you'll give someone a heart attack with your sneaking."

She rolled her eyes at him, a grin still on her face before she turned to Lidea. Pointedly ignoring him.

“Are you all right? I heard you shouting?”

The difference in her tone when addressing Lidea compared to him was almost startling. But then again, Crystal had always had a soft spot for younger individuals, regardless of their race or kind.

Lidea visibly relaxed in the healer's presence, and Warchief was glad to see them getting along well. Both woman could use a friend.

"Everything is fine. I was just worrying about how little I know of this world, and that grinning bastard kindly informed me that 'I would figure something out.' I can't comprehend how his mind works."

Crystal snorted unladylike at the woman's obvious annoyance, likely delighted that someone else had complained about his attitude for once. Warchief also smiled, glad to hear her using foul language again. For a moment, he had worried that he had saved the wrong woman.

“I just don’t see the point of fretting about things that you can’t help. Besides, you’re young and can learn from now on. I fail to see the problem?”

Lidea grunted in exasperation, and Crystal's grin widened. Yes, she was definitely pleased to have someone on her side at last.

"Do you always think everything is so simple? Sure, I can learn, but who will teach me, and how can I ensure that I don’t get lied to again?"

Warchief pondered for a moment before shrugging. To him, there was little value in trying to discern absolute truth. Opinions would always differ, and even history books were written from someone's perspective. It seemed like a meaningless endeavor, and he preferred to focus on what he could observe with his own eyes.

"You don't. But if it makes you feel better, nobody else is certain either. Unless you happen to find a seer, but they are so rare that even Crystal has never encountered one."

Lidea's face contorted in confusion at his statement, and he eagerly awaited her subsequent question. However, the cunning demoness chose to intervene.

"Don't mind him. He despises anything related to history. If it doesn't involve fighting, he doesn't care."

Warchief almost felt offended, but Crystal's mischievous smile indicated that she was teasing him. After all, Crystal knew all too well the demons that haunted him.

"Speaking of history, perhaps she can find some use in the dust pile sitting downstairs?"

“Dust pile?”

Lidea looked at him with confusion, while Crystal tilted her head as she contemplated his words before her eyes lit up with understanding.

"The library, you mean? I suppose so. The book collection might be a bit outdated, but that might even be better if you want to understand how Lynoës used to be."

As Crystal spoke, she began unpacking the basket in front of them. Warchief's stomach growled at the sight of the triangular pastries, his favorites. It was evident that Crystal had packed far too much food for just the two of them, and he silently praised her thoughtfulness.

“Can we go now?”

He hadn't expected Lidea to be so interested in books, but clearly, he had underestimated her. His eyes lingered on the food, and he was relieved when Crystal shook her head.

"I can bring you something to read while you rest. There's no way you'll be able to make the trip down to the cellars and back. Besides, you need to eat, and judging by the noise he's making, he hasn't eaten yet either."

As if to emphasize her point, Warchief's stomach rumbled loudly, prompting laughter from both Crystal and him, while Lidea smiled as well.

"How many times have I told you not to skip breakfast?"

Crystal mockingly accused him, and he refrained from asking her whose fault that was. He knew better than to annoy the person holding the food.

“I know. Thankfully, you’re here to save me.”

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his dramatics, but her smile remained bright as she extended the platter to Lidea. Taking one of the pastries, she expressed her gratitude to the healer and began munching on it in silence. However, her thoughts soon caught up with her, causing her to pause.

"What did you mean when you said that even Crystal hadn't seen a seer yet? Aren't they incredibly rare, as in 'haven’t existed for centuries' kind of rare?"

Warchief's grin widened, appreciating Lidea's sharpness and seizing the opportunity to grab a couple more pastries before Crystal had a chance to intervene. He could already sense her disapproving glare, but he nonchalantly addressed Lidea's question.

"As the oldest among us, Crystal would have had the greatest chance to encounter a seer by now."

Confusion painted Lidea's face as she glanced at Crystal, clearly questioning how she could be older than Warchief.

“I thought you were around my age?”

Warchief snorted, attempting to hold back his amusement as he took a bite of his pastry, only to have his tongue burned by the scorching heat of the sweet and spicy meat filling. His eyes watered, and he gasped like a fish in an attempt to cool down the food in his mouth, all the while he could see Crystal's delight at his momentary discomfort.

Lidea seemed oblivious to Warchief's mishap, her attention fixated on Crystal, as if searching for any clues she might have missed.

"So, how old are you then?"

The demoness tilted her eyes upward, attempting to recall the passage of years.

"If the moon of Lunday has yet to eclipse, then I should be somewhere between three and three and a half centuries old."

Her revelation left Lidea staring at her in utter shock. Warchief found her expression priceless and took solace in the fact that he was no longer the only one to have reacted in that way.

"See what you've done, Warchief? Now the poor thing is broken."