With that heavy declaration, silence descended. While Kanna took a deep breath and steadied herself, Yuder began comparing the newly revealed information against what he already knew.

‘Fire, screams, fear, death...’

He already knew what incident Kanna had read. The rest wasn’t all that strange, but the mention of fire and a scene of burning nagged at him.

There were indeed monsters that could breathe fire. Not common, but there had been multiple records of them throughout history, and Yuder’s previous life in the Cavalry had encountered them a few times, so it wasn’t especially unusual in itself.

The issue was that a fire-breathing monster had appeared in the mountains. According to what Yuder had heard, the damage caused by that incident had only extended to the destruction of a single village.

Fire and wood were naturally incompatible—so how could a fire-type monster, appearing in a forested mountain, only destroy one small village and then vanish?

That region was a small mountain village, no different from the one Yuder himself ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) had once lived in. There was likely no one nearby who could come to the rescue quickly. Fire-type monsters were especially difficult to deal with. Back then, there hadn’t even been Awakeners, so unless they had a magic tool containing a water attribute spell—or a mage of that element—how could they have handled it?

‘If only I’d memorized the Imperial Magic Institute’s investigative records beforehand...’

Too late now. It was all because of that bastard Kiole, who’d screwed up the schedule and delayed everything Yuder originally planned to do. Still, it wasn’t a fatal setback. There was someone who had memorized all those records in Yuder’s place. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

As Yuder shifted his gaze slightly toward Kishiar, the man was still leaning against the door with his arms crossed, smiling as if he had read Yuder’s thoughts. He nodded—twice—clearly and deliberately enough for Yuder to catch.

That meant Kishiar’s information matched what Kanna had just read—and that he knew exactly what kind of doubts Yuder was harboring.

‘Yeah. That’s enough for now.’

Once everything was over, he could ask Kishiar. Yuder turned to the slightly exhausted-looking Kanna.

“You okay?”

“Mm. Don’t worry. I can keep going as much as needed. Though... I would like a bit of water.”

That was easily resolved. Yuder used the power of wind to snatch up an empty cup prepared for guests staying here and filled it with water before handing it over. After a few sips, color returned to Kanna’s cheeks.

“That’s the most luxurious water I’ve ever had.”

She emptied the cup in no time.

“Want another?”

“No. I’m fine!”

She firmly set the cup down, wiped her lips, and exhaled briefly—her expression now filled with determination.

“More importantly, I’d like to continue right away. What’s next? I’ll manage my own condition, so don’t worry about that—just give me whatever item you want read next.”

“......”

That calm but firm attitude gave Yuder a faintly unfamiliar feeling.

That change—this clarity—was likely the core of what had changed in Kanna since the events in the South. Yuder looked at her face for a moment, then reached out. He handed her the torn mage’s robe.

“...This one.”

“Got it. I’ll begin.”

Kanna examined the robe thoroughly and placed her hand over the ripped chest area. From the very start this time, a strong shimmer began flowing from her hand. Her eyelids trembled as if buffeted by a fierce wind, and her blue eyes wandered aimlessly through the air.

“...Honor.”

Kanna spoke in a low voice.

“It may look plain, but not just anyone could wear this robe. It’s... a robe of honor. Yes. Not obvious at first glance, but it was issued to mages working for the Imperial household. The owner was proud of that fact. Someone once said to them... ‘You may not be very strong, but the fact that you were born with the ability to sense mana... It’s a mark of recognition, isn’t it, Cantinto? Congratulations...’”

A name tumbled out—familiar, yet still so utterly strange. Yuder’s brow twitched.

But then Kanna shook her head.

“Hmm... I want to read something else. I want to know why this robe was torn...”

As she murmured, her rapidly darting eyes suddenly fixed on an unknown point.

“...Found it.”

“......”

“Blood. It’s blood again.”

A fiercer ripple shimmered beneath Kanna’s palm.

“It’s similar to before. The robe’s owner was somewhere filled with blood, screams, and death. They dodged, ran, rolled—avoiding attacks, killing intent—but couldn’t escape. The enemy... Yes. Definitely not human. A monster.”

Kanna’s breathing gradually quickened. She seemed to be reliving the atmosphere of the scene—the movement in her eyes growing even faster.

“Others in the same robe... probably comrades. But too many of them died. Ordinary people, too... even their pets... One of the comrades... shouted to run, to report what had happened. They wanted at least someone to survive and report it. Everyone risked their lives. ‘You’re still young! Think of your child...!’ they shouted. But even the one who ran likely didn’t make it far. Someone cried that they didn’t even make it past the village entrance. And then... they died.”

“......”

“The robe’s owner spoke. Said they’d managed to survive this long because they had a little skill in sensing mana—but that this was the end. There’s nowhere left to run... no way out to get help. So they searched the ruins—murmuring that if they could just find somewhere to hide, maybe they could survive. But then...”

Kanna, who had been speaking without even pausing to breathe, suddenly flinched and fell silent. Sweat trickled down her forehead through the intense shimmer.

“...They find something.”

Then silence—for quite a while. Yuder spoke softly.

“What?”

“...Something very small. Pitiful. A mystery...”

Kanna murmured, drenched in sweat. It seemed she was having trouble reading clearly this time.

“Don’t push yourself. What you’ve read is more than enough.”

“No... I haven’t yet read why the robe’s largest hole was made. Everything so far was from the other tears. Just a bit more, and I’ll get there! I can do this! It’s just... something’s blocking it...”

She shook her head, gritting her teeth. Her clenched fist opened and closed again as she pushed herself harder.

“Kanna!”

“...Ugh!”

Her teeth clenched, and the blood vessels in her eyes burst red. The shimmer was now so intense, it looked like a translucent storm of wind enveloping both the robe and her body.

—Fwoooaaaah!

She’s going to hurt herself at this rate...

Just as Yuder decided to forcibly stop her and reached out—

Kanna’s power suddenly stopped.

Still gripping the torn robe, she smiled coldly.

“—Found it.”

She read it?

“...What the robe’s owner found... was a baby.”

Yuder’s hand, mid-air, froze.

“......”

“For that tiny, pitiful child... the robe’s owner decided to step out from hiding. They’d die anyway—but if they didn’t act, the baby would die too. After a life spent always running, they said... it would be fine to die once, just this once, while protecting a child. Then... they rushed out.”

To protect the baby.

And then—

“A huge hole opened in the robe... and that was the end.”

Finally, Kanna’s blue eyes regained full focus.

“Haa... haa...”

She slumped down. This time, completely exhausted—she didn’t even ask for water. She collapsed into the chair, gasping. Yuder slowly filled another cup and handed it to her.

“...Thanks.”

“It’d really be best not to push any further.”

“This much isn’t pushing. I didn’t get a nosebleed or faint, did I?”

What kind of standard is that?

Yuder frowned, ready to retort—but the smug, grinning expression on her face made something click.

“What’s wrong, Yuder? Feels awful when I use your own words against you, doesn’t it?”

Yeah. That was exactly the look she had.