CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO SEPARATION

“It’s inside here.”

The Master Oracle’s voice echoed softly through the underground passage as he led the group deeper into the tunnel, Mathias following close behind. In his hand was an advanced-looking torch, its beam cutting a pale path through the darkness.

They had been walking for nearly twenty minutes before finally arriving at their destination.

Two guards emerged from the shadows as they approached, armour faintly clinking as they stepped aside.

“This way, please.”

They were ushered further in.

“That freakin’ hole is our secret entrance?!” Kazuo exclaimed, his voice echoing sharply off the stone walls.

The sound rebounded violently, multiplying as it ricocheted through the chamber, each echo arriving a fraction louder and more distorted than the last. The ringing lingered in the air long after the words themselves had died, as though the cavern had taken personal offence.

Mika winced, instinctively clapping a hand over one ear. Guy grimaced, teeth clenched. Even Fye blinked, momentarily stunned.

Kazuo was immediately rewarded with a sharp glare from everyone present and a swift smack to the back of the head from Shinji.

“Inside voice,” Shinji said through gritted teeth.

Fye cleared his throat.

“As you can see, this place has never been used. It exists solely for the Royal Family of the Rose in the event of an emergency evacuation. That well will lead you directly into Aquarius territory. However…” His expression sobered. “I cannot guarantee your safety once you arrive. For that, I truly apologise.”

“Your Majesty!” Mathias burst out. “You could have issued permits instead of revealing a royal secret to outsiders!”

Fye turned to him, unshaken.

“I could have,” he agreed. “But if I did, King Lewis would know immediately. He is not a careless man. If he suspects an investigation, he will tighten his defences and erase every trace before we can uncover the truth. This way, his guard remains down.”

He met Mathias’s gaze steadily. “And I trust them. You should as well, Sir Mathias.”

Kazuo had already wandered over to the well. He crouched, picked up a stone, and tossed it down into the darkness.

No sound followed.

“…That’s a long fall,” Kazuo muttered. “This thing’s no joke.”

“How does a well inside a tunnel link to an entirely different kingdom?” Guy wondered aloud.

“Magic,” Mathias replied coolly. “Long ago, witches of the Spirit World blessed this passage. Those who enter are transported somewhere safe.”

“So magic’s involved too,” Mika murmured.

A brief silence followed.

“Well?” Guy asked. “Who’s going first?”

“Me!” Kazuo was already stepping forward when Fye hurried after him.

“Please wait, Sir Kazuo!”

In his hands were several earpieces and a set of wrist devices.

“These were developed by an inventor named Baron under the guidance of Lord Eden,” Fye explained. “I couldn’t allow you people to leave for Aquarius without a way to communicate. The watches are waterproof and fireproof, though I advise against testing their durability too thoroughly.”

Kazuo’s grin widened. “Cool!”

“The screen includes a camera and microphone,” Fye continued. “You can speak through it directly, or simply activate the channel.” He demonstrated, pressing a small button. The display flashed L1.

“That’s Line One. Please ensure you’re all on the same channel before you leave.”

One by one, they followed suit.

“Can you guys hear me? Heyyy, can you guys hear me?!”

Voices crackled to life in their ears.

“I can hear you, Kazuo!”

“Shut up, you bastard!”

“This is amazing!”

Fye smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same channel now. Please keep me informed.”

“Roger that,” came the unanimous reply.

Kazuo flashed Mika a grin. “Alright then. Here I go.”

“Be careful,” Mika said quickly.

With a thumbs-up, he took a breath and jumped.

A faint neon glow followed him down, vanishing into the dark.

Silence.

Mika pressed her device. “Kazuo? Can you hear me?”

Nothing. The well swallowed all sound.

“The depth must be greater than expected,” Guy said quietly.

Fye tried again to connect with Kazuo. Still nothing.

Shinji exhaled. “We move.”

After brief farewells, Mika, Shinji, and Guy followed, leaping into the darkness one by one.

The Kingdom of Aquarius was a land shaped by earth and endurance. Fertile fields had once made it a cornerstone of trade, but its people had always paid for that abundance with hardship. The climate here was cruel and unpredictable, winters biting deep into bone and soil alike. Lately, it had grown worse. Even the land seemed to be holding its breath.

Deep within the forest, hidden from roads and watchtowers alike, lay a pristine lake.

Its surface was smooth as glass, unbroken, untouched.

At its centre floated a figure.

Mika stirred.

The cold struck first.

It was not a gradual chill, but a shock that tore through her lungs and sent a sharp jolt through her spine. She sucked in a breath instinctively and immediately choked, limbs flailing as she tried to right herself. Water closed over her head again, muffling the world into a dull roar.

She broke the surface coughing, lungs burning, panic clawing at her chest. For a moment, there was nothing but the desperate need for air and the ache in her limbs as she forced herself to move. The water was deeper than it looked, dragging at her weight and her gear.

Shore.

She fixed her gaze on the dark line of land ahead and swam.

By the time her fingers dug into mud and roots and she hauled herself out of the lake, her arms were shaking. She collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving, cold water soaking into her clothes as dusk bled slowly into the forest around her.

The sky above was already bruising purple and red through the canopy.

Mika lay still, letting her breathing steady, eyes scanning the unfamiliar shapes of trees and shadows.

Shinji.
Guy.
Kazuo.

The thought surfaced unbidden, sharp with worry.

She clenched her jaw and pushed it aside.

Panic wouldn’t help. Not now.

Her body was already beginning to feel the cold. The air here carried a damp bite, and as the light faded, the temperature dropped with it. Staying soaked through the night would be dangerous, even for her.

Mika forced herself upright and reached for her pack.

Relief washed through her when she opened it. Everything was intact. Dry. Sealed exactly as it should be.

She moved quickly after that, slipping behind a cluster of dense brush. Wet clothes were shed without hesitation, fingers numb as she wrapped herself in a towel and pulled on the oversized white shirt she’d packed precisely for situations like this. Practicality over pride.

Once dressed, she secured her gear and moved through the undergrowth, gathering fallen branches and dry wood with quiet efficiency. The forest was still, almost unnaturally so. No insects. No birds.

Only the soft crackle of twigs beneath her boots.

She crouched and struck a match.

The flame flared to life.

And then, a loud sneeze cut through the quiet.

Mika froze.

Every muscle in her body locked as instinct took over. The match fell forgotten to the ground. In the next heartbeat, the twin blades were in her hands, their familiar weight grounding her as her senses sharpened.

Not an animal.

Too sharp. Too human.

She moved without sound, slipping through the brush with controlled breaths, heart pounding hard against her ribs. The glow of firelight flickered ahead, casting long shadows between the trees.

A man stood there, half-turned, rising abruptly to his feet.

A weapon formed in his hand in a shimmer of light.

Mika didn’t hesitate.

She struck first.

Steel rang out as blades collided, the impact jolting up her arms. The exchange was fast and brutal, movements instinctive rather than planned. She ducked a swing, drove forward, elbow slamming into his jaw with enough force to make him stagger. He swore, stumbling back, barely keeping his footing.

The fire flared.

Light caught his face.

“…Kazuo?”

The word left her lips in disbelief.

He blinked, then grinned through blood at the corner of his mouth. “Yo, Princess.”

Her world stopped.

The blades slipped from her fingers and hit the ground with a dull clatter.

“Oh, Spirits, Kazuo, I’m so sorry!” Mika rushed forward, panic flooding in all at once. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?!”

He laughed, actually laughed, even as he touched his jaw with a wince. “Because I wasn’t sure it was you,” he said easily. “And I didn’t fancy getting stabbed if it wasn’t, ya know?”

She stared at him, hands hovering uselessly between wanting to help and wanting to hit him.

He just smiled wider.

***

“Ya still not done yet, Princess? Sun’s gonna be up before ye know it,” Kazuo’s voice cut through the quiet, rough but unhurried.

Mika emerged from the bushes a moment later, having changed into drier clothes: a loose dark-brown shirt that fell past her hips and black three-quarter trousers tucked neatly at the calf. She hung the towel she’d wrapped herself in earlier beside her damp clothes near the fire, letting the heat coax the moisture out slowly.

She’d always been strict about travelling. An extra set of clothes, sealed and ready, no exceptions.

Shinji and the others used to laugh every time she scolded them into buying backups. Their reasoning had been simple and infuriating: why bother, when we can just wait for our clothes to dry?

Men.

As she returned to the small campsite, Kazuo was crouched by the fire, wooden spoon in hand, stirring the pot with careful attention so it wouldn’t burn. The firelight flickered over his broad shoulders, casting shadows that stretched long against the trees.

Her gaze drifted, unbidden, to his foot.

The one she’d stomped earlier.

A flicker of guilt crossed her face. She’d offered to heal him almost immediately, more than once, but he’d waved her off with a grin and told her to go cover herself first. At the time, she hadn’t understood what he meant.

It took her far longer than she cared to admit.

The realisation had struck hard and mercilessly.

The towel had slipped when she attacked him. The oversized white shirt she’d thrown on in a rush had been soaked through, clinging, transparent in the firelight. Anyone with eyes would have seen far more than she’d intended.

Her face had burned hot enough to rival the flames.

She’d bolted back into the trees without another word, hands clutched tight to her chest, Kazuo’s laughter echoing faintly behind her. Not mocking, not leering, but unmistakably amused.

Now, standing by the fire once more, Mika let out a slow breath and dropped her bag beside a tree, choosing a seat a little distance away.

She didn’t hate Kazuo. She never had.

But of all people, him?

If it had been Shinji, he’d have told her flatly and turned away without another thought. If it were Guy, he’d have gone scarlet and marched her back behind cover with a flustered apology.

Kazuo was different.

Too loud. Too relaxed. Too aware.

And being alone with him, truly alone, made her nerves coil tight in her chest. Without Shinji nearby to bicker with him, without Guy to temper the air, she felt exposed in a way she hadn’t expected.

The thought made her shiver.

To distract herself, her eyes wandered to the sapphire gemstones arranged carefully around the camp in a triangular formation. Barrier stones. Protective. Reliable. Solid things that made sense.

“Why’re ye sittin’ all the way over there?”

Kazuo’s voice broke her thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder, brow lifting as he took in the distance between her and the fire.

“The warmth’s over here, ye know. Nights get nasty cold ‘round these parts.”

He patted the ground beside him, the gesture casual, unassuming.

“Come on. Don’t be stubborn. Catchin’ a fever out here’d be a right pain.”

Mika hesitated, then gave a small smile and stood, moving to sit beside him. The heat of the fire was immediate, soothing, easing the chill from her bones.

For a heartbeat, it was peaceful.

Then Kazuo leaned back slightly and smirked.

“What’s the matter?” His voice dipped, husky with mischief. “Scared I might do somethin’ to ye?”

Her breath caught.

Mika’s eyes widened, colour draining from her face so fast it was almost impressive.

Kazuo stared at her expression for exactly one second before bursting into loud, shameless laughter.

“Oh gods, ye should see yer face!” He wiped at his eyes, shoulders shaking. “Absolutely priceless. Ye’re too innocent for yer own good, Princess.”

He winked.

Heat flooded her cheeks, fury this time, not embarrassment. Mika turned her back on him with a huff, folding her arms tight as his laughter slowly tapered into amused chuckles.

Silence settled again.

Then Kazuo spoke, quieter now.

“I won’t do anythin’.”

She stiffened slightly.

“Mika’s Mika,” he continued, gaze fixed on the fire. His voice had lost its teasing edge, softened into something earnest. “Ye’re precious. To all of us. Don’t get it twisted.”

Mika turned back slowly.

There was still a smile on his face, but it was gentler, worn at the edges. Something thoughtful lingered in his eyes, something old.

“…Ye might not know this,” he added, “but the three of us go way back. Me, ye, an’ Shinji.”

Mika’s chest tightened.

If only he knew how much she wanted to tell him. To scream it all out. The truth, the memories, the things she carried alone.

But not yet.

Kazuo exhaled and reached for the pot.

“Dinner’s ready.” He ladled the stew into two wooden bowls and handed one to her, steam curling warmly into the night air.

“Eat up.”

She took a bite and sighed.

It was simple. Honest. Perfect.

“This is amazing,” she said without thinking. “I was honestly expecting the worst.”

Kazuo paused mid-bite, eyeing her with mock offence. Slowly, he reached out and pinched her cheek, tugging it toward him.

“Excuse me?” he said sternly. “Are ye insultin’ my cookin’, Your Highness?”

He tugged harder. “Who d’ye think made that fried rice last week?”

“T-That was you?!”

“And the crepes?” He scoffed. “D’ye have any idea how hard it is makin’ crepes in the middle of nowhere?”

He finally let go, crossed his arms, and pouted exaggeratedly.

Mika burst out laughing, rubbing her sore cheek. The sound came easier now, lighter, free of tension.

“I’m sorry,” she said between giggles. “I really am.”

Kazuo huffed, then smirked into his stew.

A comfortable quiet followed.

“To be honest,” Mika said after a while, staring up at the stars, “I can barely cook. Simple things, maybe. But for people?” She shook her head. “I always thought Shinji was the one doing all the cooking.”

Kazuo snorted. “Who d’ye think taught him?”

“…You?”

“Nope. Kai.”

Her heart stilled.

Kai. The name carried weight, too much history, too many unanswered questions.

Kazuo’s voice softened as he spoke, the firelight catching the edges of his grin as memory settled in.

“Suzumi couldn’t cook to save her own neck,” he said, shaking his head fondly. “Elegant. Graceful. Deadly in a kitchen. Shinji’s stomach was her personal battlefield.”

Mika let out a small, surprised laugh.

“One day, after sacrificin’ himself as her taste tester for the umpteenth time, Shinji finally had enough,” Kazuo continued. “He went to Kai instead. Asked him to teach him how to cook properly.”

He paused, stirring the stew absently.

“Could’ve just learned from the chefs, sure. But back then, Shinji had to keep his distance. Too many threats. Too many eyes watchin’. Even his own people weren’t always safe to be around.”

Kazuo smiled faintly.

“Kai didn’t go easy on him. Started him off with the basics. Choppin’ onions. Prep work. No pans till he earned ’em.” He snorted. “Strict as hell, but fair. Thanks to him, the White Wolf Clan stopped poisonin’ itself with half-cooked meals.”

He laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “Oh, and did ye know Shinji used to be a cry-baby?”

Mika blinked.

“No. I definitely did not know that.”

“Seriously,” Kazuo said, grinning. “Got scolded by Suzumi once and he’d be tearin’ up like the world ended. An’ gods, that woman… scary as sin. I swear she could kill someone just by yellin’.”

He shivered theatrically.

“Kai was different,” he went on, quieter now. “Gentle. Stern. He pushed Shinji hard, especially durin’ trainin’. There was this one time…”

Kazuo trailed off into another story, voice carrying fond embarrassment as he continued recounting moments Shinji would never live down.

Mika listened without interrupting. And as the fire crackled and the stars wheeled overhead, something settled between them. Not romance, not promises. Just trust.

And the ache of missing someone who should have been there.

***

Dawn broke pale and cold through the forest canopy.

By the time the first light filtered between the trees, Mika and Kazuo were already moving. They searched in widening arcs from the lake, calling out when the terrain allowed, scanning for footprints, broken branches, any sign at all that Shinji or Guy had landed nearby.

They found nothing.

No disturbed soil. No markings. No trace of passage.

The forest seemed to have swallowed them whole.

After hours of fruitless searching, they paused near the edge of higher ground overlooking the distant silhouette of the castle.

“We need to widen the range,” Kazuo said at last, wiping his brow. “If they didn’t land near the lake, they might’ve been pushed closer to the city.”

Mika nodded, though unease had already begun to coil tight in her chest.

Kazuo had contacted the Master Oracle the night before, updating him on their situation as soon as it became clear they were separated. Fye’s relief had been immediate when he learned that at least the two of them were safe, but it had been short-lived.

“I’m afraid the situation here has grown… complicated,” Fye’s voice came through the device now, steady but tight. “Security across the Kingdom has been heightened since last evening. There were reports of intruders breaching the outer perimeter.”

Mika’s grip tightened around the wrist device.

“Do you know who they were?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Fye replied. “Our patrols are still investigating. However…” He paused. “It is possible that the intruders were your companions. If Lord Shinji and Sir Guy landed closer to the city, they may have been detained.”

Mika’s breath caught. “Captured?”

“I wouldn’t phrase it quite so harshly,” Fye said gently. “King Lewis is cautious. And suspicious. Still, I do not believe immediate harm would come to Lord Shinji.”

Kazuo frowned. “Because he’s White Wolf?”

“Precisely,” Fye answered. “The White Wolf Clan’s history is not something the Kingdom of Aquarius takes lightly. Their uprising years ago caused significant damage across multiple regions. Aquarius suffered the greatest economic losses. King Lewis may be ruthless, but he is not foolish enough to provoke them again.”

Mika felt a measure of tension ease, only for it to be replaced by another.

“What about Guy?” Kazuo asked slowly. “He’s from Luyas.”

Silence followed. When Fye spoke again, his sigh carried clearly through the channel.

“That is where my concern lies. Lord Ranfel’s relationship with King Lewis has long been strained. However,” he added firmly, “I trust Lord Shinji’s judgement. If the two of them are together, I believe he will do everything in his power to protect Sir Guy.”

Mika closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself.

“Please keep us updated,” she said. “Anything at all.”

“You have my word,” Fye replied. “Be cautious. Both of you. And… good luck.”

The connection ended.

For a moment, neither Mika nor Kazuo spoke. Then Kazuo glanced down at his device and tapped the side.

“Let’s switch to Line Two, just for us,” he said. “Just in case.”

Mika nodded, following suit.

Whatever awaited them within the Kingdom of Aquarius, one thing was clear now. They were no longer just searching.

They were racing against time.