Victoria arrived, carrying everything Arvard had asked for. In her left hand, she balanced a wooden bucket. In her right, she held a chain, at the end of which knelt a human whose face was covered by a dirty sack.
The garden was mostly empty at first—just trimmed grass stretching wide—but near the center, trees of many kinds began to cluster together in an eerie grove.
Victoria reached the middle of the garden, set the bucket down, and commanded the human, "Sit." He obeyed, trembling, and she left him there.
"Arvard," she called out as she walked deeper into the garden.
Then she saw him—standing near a woman with long green hair, a radiant presence unlike anything human. Her aura was not of any race Victoria recognized.
"Did you bring everything?" Arvard asked, glancing at her.
Victoria plucked an apple from a nearby tree and held it up. "Yes."
Arvard smiled faintly, then gestured toward the green-haired woman. She knelt without hesitation and sank into the earth, disappearing like a dream.
"What… was she?" Victoria asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
"How should I put this?" Arvard muttered. "She's... one of those I own."
He didn't feel the need to lie. Not to Victoria.
Arvard bent down to lift Rustilia. Her wounds had fully healed, though it was hard to tell at first—her body was coated in dried blood. He carried her out of the tree grove and laid her a safe distance from the human, who was still shaking uncontrollably.
"P…ple…" the man tried to speak, but Arvard knocked him unconscious with a swift strike.
"Bring fresh water from the river," Arvard ordered.
Victoria nodded and rushed off. Within minutes, she returned with a brimming bucket. She paused, startled to see a tent already pitched.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"It's necessary," Arvard replied coldly.
Saying nothing more, she placed the bucket down. Arvard tore away Rustilia's bloodstained clothes and gently lowered her into the bucket.
"You didn't bring the scrub or brush " he muttered.
"You never told me to!" she snapped, then turned and ran back toward the castle without waiting for a reply.
"Guess I'll wash you myself, sis," Arvard whispered.
He began scrubbing away the blood, but something was off—her hair, once silver, stayed dark. He rubbed harder, but not a single silver strand returned.
He stood up, confused and troubled.
Victoria returned, breathless, holding a brush, a bar of soap, and a cloth. Arvard snatched the soap and rubbed it furiously into Rustilia's hair.
"Is something wrong?" Victoria asked, noting his disturbed expression.
Arvard suddenly shouted, "Shit!"
"Ma, go inside. I'll call you when I'm done," he barked.
Without a word, Victoria turned and ran.
Arvard bit his finger. The moment his blood hit the ground, shadows twisted and bloomed into the form of the green-haired woman. She knelt before him.
"Her hair," he said, pointing to Rustilia.
The woman stood, brushing the girl's hair with her fingers. From her fingertips sprouted root-like tendrils, creeping over Rustilia's chest.
"It seems when you cut her with the dark sword, it did break the curse," she said slowly. "But it also triggered something else—your birth power."
"The life-absorbing one?" Arvard asked.
She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. It... backfired."
"What are you saying? Start from the beginning," Arvard commanded.
Still kneeling, she began, "Do members of your family all receive a unique ability, Master?"
"Yes," Arvard said, growing more confused. "Every Ampher inherits a unique power. Mine absorbs life. My father can speak across any distance with those he knows. But why does that matter?"
"It was indeed a curse. But it wasn't placed by just any magician. This one… he bound the curse to her power. So even if someone destroyed the curse, it would destroy her ability too—and potentially her life. The princess's power, like yours, is life-based. That's why she was always thirsty. The curse was feeding off her life force, like a parasite."
"You mean her power was similar to mine... and the curse used it against her?" Arvard asked grimly.
"Precisely. And then you used the power of the G.O.D. to kill the parasite… but your own power backfired slightly," she added with a nervous laugh.
"Don't laugh. Just speak," Arvard growled, eyes flashing.
The woman flinched. "Forgive me, my Lord. Your sister absorbed your life force. That's why her hair is now the color of your eyes."
Arvard stared down at Rustilia. "But she's alive, right? Her health?"
"Yes, Master. Her body is stabilizing."
Arvard groaned and clutched his head, pain flaring in his temples.
"I can replenish my life force… using my ability, right?"
"Please allow this worthless servant to check your body," she said timidly.
Arvard sighed, removing his cloak. His body was littered with scars—marks left by silver blades and magical weapons.
She touched his skin, her fingers growing root-like again. Her expression changed instantly.
"Master… you must replenish your life force now. You have less than twenty hours left."
"Will humans or trees work?" Arvard asked.
"Someone from your species would be best. If not, then humans. Plant life works for spells, but it's too pure to restore you."
"Fine. You may go."
She bowed deeply and melted back into the ground.
Arvard turned to the unconscious human. "I was thinking of giving you to her as a treat… but whatever."
He devoured the human's life force swiftly.
Then he spoke into the ring, "Cordilia, could you summon Victoria?"
Her voice echoed in his head. "But I won't leave you alone."
"Sorry, I keep forgetting how useless you are," Arvard muttered.
He shouted, "Victoria!"
No response.
"Send a slave to call her," Cordilia offered, but he ignored her.
Sitting beside the tub, Arvard sighed. "Looks like I have to do it myself."
It took him thirty minutes to thoroughly clean Rustilia. His rough scrubbing left her skin slightly red in places. Once she was clean, he gently wiped her dry and dressed her in a simple white gown.
Arvard whispered, "Aren't you a cute little princess…"
As darkness began to fall, he feared she might catch a cold. He gathered sticks and lit a bonfire nearby.
"Should I wake her now?" Cordilia asked as she stepped out of the ring, her gaze softening as she looked at Rustilia.
"No. Don't wake her yet," Arvard said.
Cordilia knelt beside the girl, touching her cheek gently.
"Everyone in your family has your touch," she whispered, "except you."
Arvard smiled faintly. "Give her a nice dream. She's been through enough."
Cordilia looked at him—at the way he watched his sister sleep—and nodded. "Sure," she whispered.