As the sun dipped below the horizon, its golden hues cast long shadows over Jo City’s port, still under stru but bustling with activity. A lone ship had begun dog, its dark silhouette outlined against the fading light. From the vessel emerged a group of priests pristine white robes bearing the sigils of the Herptian Church. Behind them trailed a line of people in tattered clothing, their expressions hollow and movements sluggish, as if life itself had been drained from them.

  Ravenna’s carriage sped through the cobbled streets toward the port, fnked by a ti of knights. The sound of hooves pounding against stone echoed in the air, mingling with the distant cries of seabirds. Her sharp gaze was fixed on the port ahead, a mixture of curiosity and annoyance simmering within her.

  Just as they heir destination, a group of riders intercepted them. Leading the charge ires James, the Herptian Church’s representative on the isnd. He pulled his horse to a halt, raising a hand to signal his ente to stop.

  The carriage came to a jarring halt, the sudden motion causing Ravenna to steady herself against the window frame. She pushed aside the curtain and leaned out, her jet-bck hair catg the evening breeze. Her pierg eyes locked onto James.

  “What is the meaning of this interruption, Your Holiness?” she asked, her toting. “I am on my way to i an uninvited ship that has docked in my port.”

  James, posed as ever, ined his head respectfully. “Yhness, I must apologize. The ship iion carries guests of the Herptian Church. I should have informed you earlier, but I was only notified of their arrival a few ho.”

  “Guests, you say?” Ravenna arched a brow, her voice ced with skepticism. “Regardless of their purpose, they are in my city, and I will see for myself who they are.”

  James nodded, signaling his group to clear the path. “Of course, Yhness. Allow me to apany you.”

  As the carriage resumed its journey, James rode alongside, his horse keeping pace. Ravenna’s eyes remained fixed ahead, but her voice betrayed her irritation. “So, who are these guests you seem so eager to meet?”

  “They are representatives from the Herptian Church’s headquarters on the western ti,” James began, his tone measured. “They were on a mission to retrieve a ceremonial artifact being sold on the bck market in the capital city. During the mission, they discovered a sve au run by the Hericules criminal syndicate. With the funds they had remaining, they chose to purchase and free as many sves as possible.”

  Ravenna’s eyes narrowed. “And now they’re bringing them here? Why?”

  James hesitated for a moment, surprised by the uncharacteristic edge in her voice. “Well, Yhness,” he tinued carefully, “after freeing those who had pces to return to, they found themselves responsible for the rest—those with nowhere else to go. Breaking their servitude spells and arranging transport draiheir resources. The priests decided the most practical solution was t them here, where they could find refuge and purpose.”

  Ravenna’s expression hardened. “And what made them think my domain was the right pce for this?”

  James g her, sensing her mounting frustration. “Before you extended your support to the Herptian Church here on the isnd, I had informed the headquarters of my desire to leave the eastern ti. Progress in spreading the faith had been stagnant. However, when you offered to help, I sent another letter, inf them that we would remaio yenerous support.”

  “And?” Ravenna’s tone was sharp, her patience wearing thin.

  James gave a sheepish ugh. “Since we’ve been struggling with mahe priests saw this as an opportunity to resolve multiple problems at ohe freed sves would provide additional hands for the church, giving them purpose and a new home, while we gain mueeded assistance. With the cost of travel from the capital to here beiively low, it was deemed the most effit solution.”

  Ravenna exhaled sharply, ping the bridge of her nose. “Effit for whom, exactly?”

  Before James could respond, the carriage rolled to a halt. They had arrived at the port.

  The se before them was chaotic yet orderly. Dockworkers bustled about, unloading crates from the ship while the priests directed the newly freed individuals, who clutched threadbare belongings to their chests. Their weary eyes darted about, taking in their unfamiliar surroundings.

  Ravenna stepped out of the carriage, her cloak billowing in the sea breeze as she surveyed the se. “Let’s see what trouble this so-called efficy has brought to my doorstep,” she muttered under her breath, striding forward with James at her side.

  Yet, beh her andierior, Ravenna was on edge. The story James had reyed to her matched too closely with a pivotal event from Light’s quest. In the inal novel, Eugehe protagonist, failed to rescue the saintess during the infamous Hericules au. By then, the Herptian Church had already purchased her, whisking her away along with the other sves to the western ti. There, the saintess rose to promihin the church, shaping the tral flict of the story’s sed half.

  But now, everything seemed to be unraveling differently. Because of her decision to support the Herptian Chur her domain, the rescued sves had been brought here instead of the western ti.

  Ravenna’s mind raced as she walked, her feet clig against the cobblestones. “Am I overthinking this?” she mused, biting the inside of her cheek. “There’s no way they brought the saintess along. There are too many variables, too many unknowns…” Despite her efforts to reassure herself, a gnawing sense of unease refused to leave her. She had no iion of being embroiled in the main plot of the novel. If anything, she wao keep as far away from it as possible.

  As they approached the priests from the western ti, Ravenna noticed how they straightehe moment they saw her. They didn’t need an introdu. Her jet-bck hair, the subtle but undeniable aura of authority she exuded, and the sharpness in her deep bck eyes gave her away immediately.

  The four priests bowed deeply, their robes swaying in unison as they greeted her. “These humble priests greet Yhness,” one of them intoned respectfully.

  Ravenna’s footsteps were deliberate as she closed the distaween them. Extending her hand with an air ality, she gestured for them to rise. Her pierg gaze locked onto them, and her voice carried an idertone. “So, you are the ones whed into my dukedom without any notice, are you?”

  Her words were sharp enough to make the former sves, standing nearby in their ragged clothing, tremble visibly. Mao their knees, overwhelmed by her anding presence. Even the priests, though outwardly posed, couldn’t hide the flicker of unease in their eyes.

  “Yhness,” one of the priests begaantly, his voice shaky despite his efforts to remain calm. “I apologize for the intrusion, but this mission was highly sensitive, and we couldn’t risk—”

  Ravenna cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand. “Enough of your excuses,” she said curtly. “Get these people to their quarters and make sure they are cared for. But remember this.”

  She took a step closer, her voice dropping into a menag tohat sent chills down their spines. “I agreed to support yion, not to bee your ckey.” Her dark eyes burned as she leaned in slightly, her words deliberate and cold. “The ime you enter my domain unannouhe only thiurning to your homes will be your heads. Not on your shoulders, mind you, but ly packed in your boxes.”

  A heavy silence fell over the group. The priests gulped audibly and nodded in unison, their earlier posure shattered. Even the former sves, who had no part in the priests’ decisions, cowered uhe weight of her presence.

  “Yes, Yhness,” one of the priests mao stammer. “We will remember.”

  Satisfied, Ravenna straightened and motioned for James to oversee the relocation of the former sves. Her knights and the local priests worked quickly, ushering the freed individuals into the carriages waiting nearby. The mood was te effit, each person moving as though afraid to incur Ravenna’s wrath.

  As the process tinued, Ravenna’s sharp eyes sed the crowd absently. Then, she froze.

  A young woman stepped hesitantly toward one of the carriages, her figure almost lost amidst the sea of weary faces. She had chestnut-brown hair, freckles scattered across her pale face, and dull, lifeless eyes that still held a faint spark of defiance.

  Ravenna’s breath caught ihroat. That face—it was unmistakable. Her heart thudded in her chest as memories of the official artwork from Light’s quest flooded her mind. The girl standing before her bore an uny resembo Marie Leon, the saintess herself, one of the most pivotal characters in the novel’s sed half.

  Ravenna’s pulse quied. She forced her expression to remain calm, but her thoughts raced untrolbly. “No… It ’t be. Not her. Not here.”

  The sight of Marie Leon, in the flesh, sent a cold dread c through her veins. The stakes had just been raised, and Ravenna realized with a sinking feeling that her attempts to stay out of the novel’s main plotline might already be unraveling.

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