The towering gates of the Clover Capital groaned open as our battered squad passed through.
The city had not changed—but we had.
The moment we stepped into the main boulevard, we were met with a wave of waiting citizens. Families stood packed along the sides of the street, eyes searching with anxious desperation.
And then… the silence cracked.
Someone screamed a name.
Another collapsed to their knees.
A woman sobbed so loudly it echoed against the stone walls.
We were not a parade of heroes. We were a procession of loss.
Fathers didn't return. Sons came back bloodied. Brothers arrived in boxes.
And yet—what stole my breath was the sight just ahead.
A woman, no older than thirty, fell to her knees in the dirt. Her arms wrapped tightly around two small children, no older than six or seven. The twins clung to her, their small faces wet with tears.
The boy was screaming, "Where's Papa? Where's Papa?!"
The girl didn't scream. She just trembled, clutching a wooden charm carved into the shape of a sword.
I froze.
It was Brenn's family.
His wife. His children.
He told me he had kids. He joked about soup and sore backs, about poverty and duty—but never once mentioned how deep his sacrifices ran.
My mouth went dry. My feet stopped moving.
I couldn't face them.
I turned my head and walked on, my chest hollow and my fists clenched.
///////////////////////////////////////
The outer grounds of House Kira loomed before me soon after. The guards recognized me instantly and let me through without delay.
But as I passed the marble corridor leading into the main courtyard, I slowed.
Something was wrong.
Two figures stood beside Finesse's father, Master Calmreich, who spoke in a low tone. The figures—inhuman and eerie—wore monochrome clown masks, with exaggerated painted smiles that never blinked or moved.
They didn't laugh.
They didn't breathe.
They just stared.
Their robes were riddled with strange glyphs and loose threads that writhed subtly in the wind.
Their presence made the very air feel thinner.
One of the servants nearby leaned toward me when he saw my hesitation.
"Don't stare too long," he whispered. "They're from The cursed family, House Agrippa."
I blinked. "The cursed family?"
He nodded quickly, lowering his voice. "Yes. Their magic is... wrong. But powerful. They say the Agrippas descend from a line that once served under the Demons . Always masked. Always loyal to no one but themselves."
I turned my gaze back to them. The white clown cocked its head slightly, as if sensing I was watching. But didn't move.
Neither did the second one.
They just stood beside Master Calmreich, speaking to no one. Listening to everything.
Whatever was going on… it was far deeper than what I'd seen in the mountains.
////////////////////////////////////////
The room was dim, lit only by the soft flickering of blue mana crystals embedded into the walls. Finesse lay beneath layers of silk sheets, her face pale and serene, almost doll-like in her stillness.
She was breathing—but unnaturally steady, like a clockwork mechanism rather than a human soul.
Beside her sat two shadows of her past and future: her father, Lord Calmreich, arms folded and jaw tight; and the court physician, draped in crimson robes, his silver spectacles catching the mana light as he leaned closer, examining the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
He checked her pulse. Her mana flow. Her eyes.
Then, with a soft sigh of satisfaction, he turned to the father.
"It's done," the doctor said quietly. "The seal is stable thanks to the Agrippas"
Lord Calmreich didn't speak immediately. His eyes never left his daughter.
"All her memories of him?" he asked after a pause.
"Gone," the doctor confirmed. "Severed, buried under layers of mnemonic illusions. Even if she sees him, hears his voice, or touches his hand… she will not recall what he once meant to her."
The silence in the room grew colder.
"But—" the doctor continued, standing upright, "—the seal is not impervious. If she remains near him too long… if her emotions begin to stir, or her mana resonates again with his—there's a high chance of leakage. A slip."
"And then?"
"She remembers. Everything. And the curse resumes its path."
Lord Calmreich narrowed his eyes. "That's unacceptable."
"Which is why," the doctor said, brushing the edge of his cloak aside, "she must be moved far from him."
"Moved where?"
"I suggest marriage," the doctor replied bluntly. "To a noble family outside of the Kira affairs. Somewhere her power can be managed and her name... protected."
Calmreich's lips thinned. "And which house do you suggest?"
"The House Vaude," the doctor answered without hesitation. "A loyal, stable family in the noble ring. Their heir is unmarried and has no connection to the Kiras or the royal court's feuds. They would gladly take a girl of immense mana talent—even if... flawed."
"She's not flawed," Calmreich said sharply.
The doctor bowed his head. "Of course. I meant only in the practical sense."
Finesse stirred slightly, her brow twitching in her sleep.
The doctor looked to her again, then turned his voice low. "You've bought her time. A year? Perhaps two. But if she stays here... near that boy..."
Lord Calmreich said nothing.
His daughter's soft breathing filled the room, unaware of the dreams and memories stolen from her—unaware of the boy who once made her laugh, cry, and hope.
Unaware of what she had lost to survive.