Nyx froze in her steps, her fingers intertwined with Tressa’s. She looked at the girl in silence, her expression composed yet carrying the faintest trace of surprise. Tressa tilted her head in confusion and asked,
“…Sister Nyx, what’s wrong?”
“...”
But Nyx didn’t respond. Her expression shifted ever so slightly, turning into a faint grimace.
“Ahem.” The man in the monocle, Theron, broke the lingering silence. “Tressa, maybe she’s uncomfortable with all the skinship. I understand that you like her,” he said, then let out a sigh before finishing, “but that doesn’t mean the same to Examinee Nyx, alright?”
Tressa’s eyes widened in shock. She looked down at her hand, still deeply intertwined with Nyx’s. Slowly, her face fell, her head lowering as she gently untangled their fingers. When she finally spoke, her voice was meek, almost trembling.
“I’m sorry… Sister Nyx.”
Her eyes glistened faintly, not from tears she intended to shed, yet it gave the impression she was on the verge of crying.
Then, finally, Nyx was jolted out of her trance, almost jumping in shock.
“A-ah, there’s nothing wrong,” she said quickly, her voice carrying a faint awkwardness. After all, how could it not? Still, she forced a small smile as she looked at Tressa. “Really, it’s not your fault. I just remembered something important I forgot to do.” Her tone softened before she added, a little sheepishly, “But… I won’t deny that I’m not very familiar with things like this.”
Tressa’s expression shifted restlessly, swirling from one emotion to another. At first, relief lit up her face when she realized it wasn’t her fault. Then, joy flickered again at Nyx’s next words. But when the last part left Nyx’s lips, her expression dimmed, leaving her looking quietly dejected. Even so, she lowered her gaze and muttered softly,
“…I understand.”
Theron glanced at his disciple, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he spoke once more. “Then, let’s go.”
Tressa’s fingers twitched slightly, the urge to reach out almost overwhelming, but she restrained herself with great perseverance.
Meanwhile, Nyx trailed at the very back, her gaze distant and clouded, paying no mind to the crawling and flying creatures that were once displayed as the stuff of her nightmares, but now not even registered in her thoughts.
'Truly, what's happening?'
Bitter thoughts churned within her, a heaviness pressing against her chest, hidden away but close to overwhelming her reason.
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They arrived at a small circular platform, reached by a narrow stone path. At its center stood a round concrete table, surrounded by a circular velvet and fluffy sofa. Sunlight filtered down through the glass above, softened into a gentle radiance that bathed the clearing in a warm glow. Around the platform, a shallow lake shimmered softly, its tranquil surface catching the gentle light. Countless beautiful flowers adorned the fields.
Despite the weight of her thoughts, Nyx still found it in herself to appreciate the natural beauty surrounding her. It was a world completely opposite to the one she had come from. 'So beautiful,' she thought as her gaze lingered on the flowers and trees, then, a faint hint of reminiscence softening her eyes. 'It’s just like my hometown.' A gentle smile touched her lips, enough to push back the darker thoughts pressing on her mind.
Eventually, they reached the seats. Both Tressa and Nyx sat side by side, while Theron settled across from them. Cassian, meanwhile, chose to remain standing at the edge of the circular platform, his back pressed casually against one of its four towering pillars.
But for some reason, Theron’s brows furrowed, clear annoyance flickering across his face as his gaze shifted toward the girl seated beside Nyx.
“Tressa, don’t sit next to her.”
The ever-so-slightly oblivious girl tilted her head, her voice filled with genuine puzzlement. “Why?”
Theron let out a weary sigh before inhaling deeply. “Sit beside me instead. You’re distracting me,” he said sharply.
Nyx, however, only felt awkward at those words. ' So… does that mean it’s fine if I’m the one distracted?' The thought lingered in her mind, but she kept it to herself. Without a single complaint, Tressa obeyed her master’s words and moved seats.
Yet, even as she did, her eyes lingered on Nyx, shining with a quiet determination. 'Haah… what am I supposed to do in the first place?' Nyx could only sigh inwardly in resignation.
Theron raised his hand, the back of his knuckles catching the light. Inked into his skin was a tattoo shaped like a weighing scale.
“Firstly,” he said bluntly, “as you probably know, this is a stigmata. You’re aware of that much, right?”
Nyx could only nod. Still, her brows furrowed, a trace of irritation slipping into her voice as she replied, “Of course I know that, mu—”
…Tss.
Her words died in her throat as the stigmata shifted before her very eyes. The ink seemed to burn, reshaping itself in real time as Theron continued casually, “Then, do you also know this one?”
Nyx’s eyes widened as she watched.
The scales weren’t static anymore; they tipped and moved, as though delivering judgment, before striking down and transforming entirely. What replaced it was far more intricate—lines woven together with delicate precision. More striking still was the color: a luminous orange-gold that burned against his skin.
Nyx knew, at least in part, what it meant. And she certainly knew the man before her: the monocle, the sharp features, the warm brown skin, the one called master by Tressa. Theron Florentys.
“Hoh,” he chuckled, amusement glinting in his voice. “So you recognize it. While it’s hardly a secret, this mark represents more than a stigmata.” He lifted his hand slightly, the glowing sigil shifting across his knuckles. “This is the mark of an Oathbearer. To bear it is to wield a portion of Solaris’s power, the deity of this kingdom itself. And though I have only received the third-highest mark, those such as myself are known as Dawnkeepers.”
He then looked at Nyx with a peculiar smile as he added slowly, “And we can grant a portion of this authority to others.” His gaze shifted toward Cassian, who turned slightly aside as if trying to avoid it. Theron’s eyes twitched with annoyance, and his voice turned sharply. “But it can only be granted to a limited amount of individuals… isn’t that right, imbecile?”
Nyx looked at the man who avoided their gaze, her eyes widening in bewilderment. Even with favoritism, it was still absurd to grant such a thing to someone completely unrelated?
She couldn’t help but mutter, “Truly, why go so far…?” Her gaze lingered on him, tinged with bitterness.
The emotions swirling within her were far too complex to untangle. Revelations and mysteries piled endlessly, too many to reason away. She was growing weary of dismissing them as frivolous, unimportant matters.
Because she knew they weren’t.
Deep down, she knew it wasn't.
At last, with weariness slipping into her voice, a faint crack breaking through as she whispered under her breath, “If you don’t tell me, then I won’t accept it, even if it’s possible.”
Cassian’s eyes widened, guilt written across his face as he replied,
“...I’m sorry, Examinee Nyx.”
His expression twisted further as he continued,
“While I do genuinely believe that having a stigmata is very important, the thing is, when you receive an oath from an OathBearer, rather from that green weirdo over there, you would be…”
His voice faltered, trailing off as guilt weighed down every word, thickening the silence between them.
“Bound to the kingdom.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding.
“Not just its sphere of influence, but also by your Path. Some decisions you make would be restricted, limited, controlled. But that is a given, an expected price, common knowledge,” he continued, his tone tightening with each phrase. “No, what I mean is…”
He lowered his gaze, eyes shadowed with weariness, as if carrying the burden of countless others before her.
“Individuals like you, like us, are far too often targeted by those of the Twilight Kingdom.”
At last, he raised his gaze to meet Nyx’s, and the weight of his stare seemed to anchor the words in place.
“The land of mages.”
She already knew the reason. Nyx, more or less, had only wanted to hear it spoken aloud. After all... speculating endlessly was far too exhausting, far too much, and with the sudden change in Tressa, it only added a creeping paranoia that gnawed at her already weary mind.
It was too sudden — a tranquil calm, then in a flash, its serenity twisted. That was why...
Her weary gaze softened ever so slightly, the heaviness within her fading for a moment.
“I see. It is unfortunate to hear, but I didn’t expect such kindness to come without cost either,” Nyx said bluntly.
Her bluntness struck the man before her, leaving him tinged with shock. He could only mutter in reply, “Truly... I’m sorry...”
Nyx only smiled. A small burden was lifted, and she replied softly, “Mm, it’s fine.”
He then looked at her with hesitant eyes and voice.
“Then, would you not accept the stigmata anymore...? I know I’m being shameless, but I still truly think it’s very important.”
Nyx thought about it, then looked at the prompt before her,
Mission: Gain the Stigmata of Solarion’sRewards: System EvolutionStatus: Ongoing
She sighed as her gaze lingered on it. The man before her flinched at the sound, mistaking it for rejection, yet he kept silent.
‘I can’t really stay idle anymore,’ her expression turned weary at the thought. ‘Truly, there’s no respite, even in another world... huh?’
Nyx then met Theron’s gaze, her own now firm.
“Yes, I would still like to receive it...” her voice trailed slightly, before she added, “But if possible, I would like it not to be an Oath, but rather just a normal stigmata."
After all, there was no saying what authority it should carry, so a normal one should be more than sufficient, right?
But Theron could only sigh. These people had come into his sanctuary without warning, and now they were demanding things as if they owned the place? Still, he let out a long breath as his coat was tugged — no, not by chance, but by his disciple’s determined grip, her eyes fixed on him with quiet resolve.
At the thought, he sighed once more, resignation weighing his voice.
“Well, I won’t be forcing you to take an Oath, so don’t worry about that. I don’t know what’s going on in certain heads here, but giving an Oath isn’t a simple matter. More importantly...” He rested his jaw on his hand, elbow set on the armrest, before adding, “I won’t hand it out with such casualness either. That would be ridiculous.”
He leaned back slightly and continued, “Instead, I could give you the second-lowest. It may be the second-lowest, but it’s the same one most nobles in this kingdom receive.”
Finally, he turned his gaze to the girl beside him.
“You’re also getting one, Tressa,” he said firmly. Then, with equal resolve, “That is my condition.”
Tressa faltered at the words of the man before her, slightly retreating as she placed her hands on her chest with reluctance.
“For the same reasons as Examinee Nyx over there, a Stigmata is very important, Tressa.”
She looked at Nyx before her, her gaze melancholic. 'Sister…' she thought, lingering on the weight of her feelings. Then, quietly resolving herself, she clenched her fist and added, “…If it’s for my sister, then…” She let out a long breath before meeting his eyes with determination.
“I’ll do it.”
Nyx, on the other hand, felt a wave of weariness. After all, for some reason she didn’t know, she was partly the reason Tressa was agreeing to the act. She could only sigh inwardly, too tired even to speak about it.
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| Chapter 25 - Resolve