Free Web NovelChapter 33: Leona Returns
Click.
Click.
Click.
The telegraph machines continued working through the night, their metallic chatter echoing off the high ceiling in a relentless rhythm.
A clerk suppressed his yawn and rubbed his eyes before reaching for another sheet.
The stale scent of ink and paper clung to the air.
The stack beside him had not grown smaller.
If anything, it seemed larger than before.
A second clerk carried fresh reports across the hall, boots scuffing softly against the worn wooden floor.
He placed them upon a table already drowning beneath paperwork.
Neither complained.
Overtime pay was generous.
The lamps burned low.
The candles had been replaced thrice.
Outside, the night remained cold and silent.
Inside, only the steady clicking of machines and scratching of pens disturbed the darkness.
In a corner of the hall, two bedrolls rested side by side.
Vincent occupied one.
Anastasia occupied the other.
Both were asleep.
Or at least appeared to be.
Anastasia’s breathing was calm.
Steady.
Even in sleep, however, her hand remained close to her dagger.
Ready to strike, ready to defend.
Years of surviving disasters had left their mark.
The mind remembered the dangers and readied the body even if it was not used to it.
Meanwhile, Vincent slept like the dead.
No reports.
No refugees.
No nobles.
No bandits.
For the first time in days, his body had finally surrendered.
It was not a comfortable rest.
The first night of his transmigration had been spent against the window of a train carriage, chilled by the draft that seeped through the glass.
The second inside a tent near a collapsed mine, where the scent of dust and damp earth lingered.
The third was now on the floor of an administrative building.
Quite an improvement.
The telegraph machines continued clicking, their steady cadence blending with the occasional rustle of paper and the faint hiss of burning wicks.
The clerks continued working.
The night slowly passed.
[Ding!]
A notification rang in his head.
[Entanglement upgraded!]
[Resonant Link(stable) → Bound Link(stable)]
[Subject: Vivienne D’Arc]
Vincent did not react.
The system could’ve announced the end of the world and he still would’ve remained asleep.
Two hours past midnight.
[Your fiancée Leona Voss has refined her first spirit weapon.]
[Your fiancée Leona Voss has broken through.]
[Your fiancée Leona Voss has opened three veins.]
[Your fiancée’s suppressed path has awakened. Her cultivation has reached the peak of the first realm.]
The moment these messages stacked, a strange phenomenon occurred in the kingdom.
Far away from D’Arc County.
Inside a blacksmith’s workshop that should have gone cold hours ago, dying embers suddenly flared back to life.
The forge burned brighter.
Then brighter still.
For a brief moment, the flames turned pale gold.
A sleeping apprentice jolted awake.
The old blacksmith beside him frowned.
The phenomenon lasted only a breath before disappearing.
Elsewhere, a smith paused while hammering steel.
A furnace in the Capital cracked louder than before.
An unfinished blade hummed softly upon an anvil.
Across the kingdom, countless smiths glanced toward their workshops in confusion.
Most found nothing.
A few found their flames burning slightly brighter.
Only those who walked the path of forging felt it clearly.
Something had awakened.
Something ancient.
Something that had slept for a very long time.
...
Above the Capital.
The Royal Palace rose from the heart of the city like a black mountain of stone and iron.
Its countless towers pierced the night sky.
Moonlight flowed across slate rooftops, stained-glass windows, and gargoyle-lined spires before finally reaching the highest point of all.
There, a lone figure stood upon a narrow pinnacle no wider than a man’s foot.
The night wind swept across the city.
It tugged at layers of black fabric and silver embroidery.
A wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over most of her face.
Only a pair of clear blue eyes remained visible beneath the moonlight.
Vivienne D’Arc looked toward the distant north.
For a brief moment, something stirred.
Not loudly.
Not enough for ordinary people to notice.
Yet to those standing upon certain paths, it was unmistakable.
A dormant ember had awakened.
A faint smile appeared on Vivienne’s lips.
"A Forge Origin..."
The words vanished into the night.
The smile lingered for only a moment.
Then she remembered a certain telegram.
"Love you."
The corner of her lips curled again.
"You really don’t know how to write letters, do you, my dear?"
The night breeze carried the words away.
Far below, movement caught her attention.
Several dark figures emerged from one of the palace courtyards.
Silent.
Purposeful.
Moving with unusual urgency.
The warmth vanished from Vivienne’s eyes.
Gas lamps illuminated the sleeping streets.
Cathedral spires stood silent beneath the moon.
Distant music drifted from a noble’s late-night gathering.
The Capital looked peaceful.
Almost beautiful.
Vivienne watched the moving shadows for a few moments.
Then she looked north one final time.
"...You two certainly know how to keep me busy."
A cold breeze swept across the spire.
Vivienne took a single step forward.
Her figure dissolved into drifting pale fragments beneath the moonlight.
It was as if she had never been there.
...
An hour later.
Administration building, Gold Town.
The main hall’s doors opened.
A cold draft entered first.
Then came a figure with lingering dark circles under her eyes.
Loose strands of silver hair framed her face.
Her crimson eyes were hollow and dim.
If the workers didn’t know better, they would’ve thought of her as a ghost and ran away in panic.
The clicking of telegraph machines continued uninterrupted.
Clerks continued to stare at her while several knights straightened their backs.
Leona paid them no attention.
Dust clung to the hem of her coat.
Her usually immaculate appearance showed signs of travel.
As she dragged herself to the round table at the end of the hall, a dagger hanging at her waist shimmered.
The metal possessed a faint luster even beneath the dim lamps.
Leona walked past the workers and reached the table.
Reports.
Documents.
Maps.
Notes.
The sight made her pause.
Sheets of paper were stacked in uneven piles.
Some had been sorted.
Others had been clearly abandoned midway.
Among them were several pages covered in Vincent’s handwriting.
Leona picked one up.
Her eyes scanned the contents.
Grain prices.
Merchant activity.
Refugee distribution.
Possible supply routes.
Observations.
Questions.
Ideas.
Some sections were neat.
Others became increasingly difficult to read.
A corner of the page simply contained the numbers six and seven written repeatedly.
She lowered the final note.
A strange sense of warmth settled in her chest.
The County had not collapsed.
The reports proved it.
Vincent had actually done it.
The thought made her shoulders relax slightly.
Only now did she look around to search for others.
She noticed a couple of bedrolls by the walls.
Her gaze then shifted.
In a corner, two bedrolls were laid out upon which two slept.
She could faintly see Vincent sleeping.
The sight felt oddly out of place.
For the past several days, every image she had of him involved movement.
Talking.
Planning.
Worrying.
Running from one problem to another.
Now he was simply sleeping.
Leona stood there quietly.
The hall continued working around her.
No one disturbed her.
After a moment, she walked over.
The bedroll beside Vincent was occupied.
Anastasia was asleep.
Leona looked around and found blankets and spare bedrolls available.
She would have to drag herself there and lay it out to sleep.
She stared at them.
Then at Vincent.
Then back at the spare bedding.
The decision lasted less than a second.
Leona removed her coat and unfastened the dagger, tossing them beside the bedroll.
She sat down, then lowered herself beneath the blanket.
No one said a word.
The nearby knights looked elsewhere with remarkable discipline.
Leona ignored them all.
Exhaustion crashed into her the moment she lay down.
The warmth beneath the blanket felt comfortable.
Too comfortable.
She closed her eyes.
A few seconds later, she shifted slightly closer.
Then slightly closer again.
Until she found a position she liked.
Her arm settled around Vincent’s waist almost unconsciously.
The tension slowly left her shoulders.
Leona let out a quiet breath.
Without realizing it, her face was lowered and buried on top of Vincent’s raven-hair.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Safe.
The thoughts barely formed before exhaustion swallowed her whole.
Sleep followed immediately.
The telegraph machines continued clicking through the night.
The clerks continued working.
The candles continued burning.
Neither Vincent nor Leona woke up.
For the first time in days, both slept peacefully.
...
Around dawn, before the morning sun rays seeped in.
[Ding!]
[Your sister Vanessa D’Arc has eliminated a potential threat.]
[Ding!]
[Your sister Vanessa D’Arc has eliminated a potential threat.]
[Ding!]
[Your sister Vanessa D’Arc has eliminated a potential threat.] x 21
Vincent’s eyes opened.
The notifications continued.
One after another.
Relentless.
His exhausted mind took several seconds to process them.
Then he noticed something else.
Warmth.
A weight around his waist.
Vincent froze.
Slowly, he lowered his gaze.
An arm.
Silver hair.
Leona.
"..."
Vincent blinked.
Then blinked again.
She was asleep.
Completely asleep.
The realization took a few seconds to fully settle.
His first instinct was to move.
His second was to question reality.
The main hall slowly came into focus.
Several clerks were asleep atop their desks.
Others had replaced them during the night.
One knight sat against a wall with his helmet covering his face.
Another continued patrolling with the determination of a man sustained entirely by stubbornness. frёewebηovel.cѳm
The telegraph machines still clicked.
The work never stopped.
Vincent looked back at Leona.
She looked exhausted.
Far more exhausted than him.
"...She should sleep somewhere proper."
Careful not to wake her, Vincent tried sitting up.
Then he remembered Anastasia.
"Anastasia."
No response.
"Anastasia."
Still none.
Vincent sighed.
"Anasta—"
One blue eye slightly opened.
She looked at Vincent.
Then at Leona.
Then at the hall.
No danger.
No emergencies.
No assassins.
The eye closed again.
Vincent felt something grab his sleeve.
Before he could react, Anastasia pulled him down.
"Five more minutes."
Her sleepy voice barely reached his ears.
A moment later, she shifted closer.
Vincent froze.
Leona’s arm was still around his waist.
Anastasia had somehow claimed one of his arms while her leg coiled around his body.
"..."
Vincent stared at the ceiling.
What was this situation?
A few days ago, one of them wanted to kill him.
The other barely tolerated his existence.
Now he was somehow trapped between both of them.
His exhausted mind attempted to process the situation.
It failed.
The telegraph machines continued clicking.
The workers continued working.
The County continued falling apart.
Vincent considered escaping.
Then he looked at the ceiling again.
He was half the size of the two ladies wrapping him tight in their embraces and quite possibly half the strength.
Escape was impossible.
Five more minutes sounded reasonable enough.
He closed his eyes.
Sleep won.
