"Tch, that's... I did my job plenty! I crushed dozens of those ugly pigs, how dare you say I didn't do my job!"

Clarice was clearly not used to this situation, especially given she was quite convinced she had contributed plenty. Why apologize when she was responsible for the deaths of so many of the enemy?

To the curse mage, it simply didn't make sense.

As their head was returned, Haelstadt raised it and placed it back upon their neck. There was a strange, fleshy sound, and after a few moments it appeared to be reattached.

Without speaking, the black knight bowed their head to signify their thanks, before swiftly returning to Veilena's side.

"Hmph, you should have just stayed still. It's not like you were going to find your head on your own, you know..."

While the battle had been won, they hadn't found the shard.

And their only clue was that white mask.

[hr]

It had been a day since they returned to Candaeln.

The prisoners were being interrogated, as she understood. Most of them were bound for the gallows, but at least they were given the opportunity to repent for their sins and die in peace.

Lady Veilena had insisted her actions were not in error, though Fanilly wondered if she really meant that or if she was too proud to admit she had made some mistakes. Either were equally likely, when it came to the prodigy mage.

On top of all of this, they would have to speak with the mages. After all, they had apparently been hinding a shard of Angroron. A dangerous artifact with the potential for untold wickedness. Who could be seeking such a thing?

Fanilly had the faintest idea.

A white mask, with a staring eye...

It didn't sound familiar to her at all. But it was their only lead.

Initially, she had desired to head to the library and carry out some research. Candaeln's library was, after all, said to be second only to that of the Mage Academy.

But as it turned out, the Knight-Captain could not focus on such things. Perhaps it was some level of stress and worry.

Maybe this was the reason she found herself in Candaeln's garden, among the splashes of purples, blues, reds, and yellows, trying to sort her thoughts out.

It was a bright, sunny day, the warmth of Reon's light reaching down to her, and yet she could not simply enjoy it.

But nor could she easily focus on performing further research.

It was a frustrating state of mind.

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